


Lightning Flowers

by EclipseMage



Series: Final Soulburst [3]
Category: Final Fantasy II, Final Fantasy XIII Series
Genre: Big heckin' crossover, Double catastrophe fallout, Gen, Lightning and Firion are grizzled soldiers, broken world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-05-23 18:35:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14939666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EclipseMage/pseuds/EclipseMage
Summary: Emperor Mateus is gone, but the effects of his tyranny will require more time to heal. Especially for Lightning and Firion when they find themselves babysitting the homeless and stalking power-hungry thugs in the aftermath of Cyclone. Contains massive spoilers for both Final Fantasy II and the XIII series.





	1. Chapter 1

Lightning shook out a small handful of nuts from her rations bag and knocked them back. Standing beside her, Firion gave his bag a woeful glance.

"They won't last the trip back," he said.

Lightning swallowed the mouthful and pocketed the rest. "We've worked on less before. Come on – that's Salamand just over the hill."

With a sigh, Firion ate his handful and followed behind her. "Maybe I'll finally find a use for this sleep spell."

It took almost two days to get to Salamand, and when they first set eyes on the snow-strewn town, it looked like a white blanket had settled over the streets and shops. Given the time of year, she shouldn't have expected anything different, though it still looked strange after all the time she spent down south.

Throwing her hood over her head, Lightning pushed forward. Sleep was scarce over the last couple of days, but she'd had enough time to restore her spells and most of her mana. She could only hope the hunger wouldn't lead to blackouts this time – three days without anything but meager rations didn't make for good sleep or stamina.

"If our source is wrong," Lightning whispered to Firion as a couple of young maidens walked by, drawing his attention, "then I'm blaming this on you."

Firion snapped back to attention and shook his head. "It's not wrong. That mage has been our ally since before the war."

"Loyalty is cheap."

"Not in our circles. Those who swear to the Queen tend to stay sworn."

Lightning resisted the urge to rub her temples. "Let's check the tavern. I need a drink and we're bound to find rumors in there."

Firion followed her into the  _Fluting Chocobo_ , a small inn in the center of town. It looked remarkably intact and even inviting, with a couple of tables to the sides and one long bar in the center. The air smelled heavily of smoke, thanks to the fireplace burning away in the far corner. The occupants hugged that part of the room, though there was only a handful of them – the low-lying sun made it a little early for most to hit the tavern, though that wouldn't stop the veterans from getting their daily shot of gysahl wine. The fumes emitted from the alcohol left a faint taste of seed in her mouth.

At Lightning and Firion's entrance, most inside turned away and hid their faces, huddling further inside their coats. The barkeep visibly deflated at the sight as well, though he had a little more class to keep working as normal.

Lightning took a seat at the bar, though Firion remained standing, hands hovering at the handle of his sword.

"Something happen here, barkeep?" Lightning asked, gesturing to the antisocial patrons.

The man silently worked his mouth for a moment before placing a mug in front of her. "Depends. You Hilda's dogs?"

"Not dogs," Firion said. "Just concerned neighbors."

"So say they all," huffed the barkeep and he pulled out a bottle of white alcohol that Lightning didn't recognize. "You two wanting a drink?"

Lightning gestured. "Something low-drawn for me."

"No thanks," Firion said.

The barkeep shook his head, shelving the bottle and placing a mug under a large keg. "Don't talk to me about the nature of this town," he said, voice hushed. "I can't answer questions like that. But I'll send you to someone that can. Just don't let anyone think I'm involved, right?"

Lightning exchanged a look with Firion, whose face shadowed at the barkeep's words. "Of course not." She accepted the mug of Phoenixale and took a swig. It warmed her chest and she felt the trickle of it down toward her stomach. Some energy returned with the drink.

"There's another traveler like yourselves," the man said, "only unaffiliated. Far as I know, she's completely disconnected from the power struggle between your queen and the local leaders."

"She?" Lightning repeated.

The barkeep scoffed. "What? Girl can't get involved in the war, around here? It's only allowed in Altair?"

Firion, thankfully, kept his mouth shut, and gave Lightning the time she needed to respond carefully. "It's not something I expected around these parts," she said. "Got a name?"

The barkeep glanced about them and leaned in. "No name, but she's staying in this very tavern. Upstairs, room on the far end to the left. No mention of me, remember."

"Right." Lightning finished the drink in a few large gulps and slapped her coins on the table. "Thanks, 'keep."

The other residents shuffled as Lightning stood and she gestured for Firion to come closer. "Staying in at this time of day," she whispered. "That's a little suspicious."

"Could be tired." He looked about them. "We don't know when she got in."

"Then how would she know anything?"

They climbed the stairs into a narrow hallway with rough doors lining aged walls. The colors matched the room downstairs, with cheap oranges staining the wood and fading near the floor.

Lightning knocked on the door at the end and handled the hilt of her sword. Best to be on guard when entering someone else's turf.

The door opened to reveal a dark-haired, tanned, and well-rounded woman in a small yellow dress, barely an adult going by her features. Her eyes widened at the sight of them and she glanced inside her room as a boy's voice chimed, "Who is it?"

"I don't know," said the girl. She turned to them again. "Who is it?"

"Claire," said Lightning, "and Frioniel from Altair. We were told you might know about what's happened around here in the last few days."

"Ah," came the boy's voice again, taking on a singsong tone. A gangly yet well-fed, fair-haired kid came their way, wearing roughened traveling clothes. He smiled and said, "But what could we possibly know? We're just two weary travelers, trying to catch a break." He drew up short when he saw Lightning. "Oh, you're a g-…" He blinked. "Good looking one!"

They both spoke different accents, both foreign and distinct. The girl's voice pitched on the consonants and the man pronounced his Rs oddly. Lightning narrowed her eyes. "No traveler looks as clean and full as you. Where are you two from?"

"That's a bit of a long story," said the girl with an apologetic smile. Lightning could swear she smelled summer rain on the two despite the winter. "I can tell you about the local politics, though. How about, um, we take a seat outside?"

"I don't think that would be wise," Firion said. "It seems that ears around this place have teeth."

The girl looked between them and the room and sighed before letting them in.

The room was a modest one, as was common in backwater towns such as this. Only two beds, each barely big enough for one person, sat in a line on one side of the room while a wash basin took one of the other corners. Strange equipment was scattered about the place, including metal poles and shining string that crisscrossed about like some midwife's invasion trap.

"That was easy," said the blond guy, falling back onto one of the small beds. With four of them in the room, there wasn't much else to sit. "We were just looking for some local heroes to deal with this place!"

Lightning narrowed her eyes and squeezed into a corner to lean against the wall. "What?"

"There's been some home invasions," said the girl, sinking into the other bed. "And some murders. Innocents found dead with floating crystal fragments about their bodies."

"This started when?" Firion asked.

"I thought it might have been after the takeover." The girl shook her head. "But apparently the power struggle's been going on for much longer than a few days. Could have been the Fafses family, could have been their previous competitor."

"The who?" Lightning asked.

"The new gang in charge," said the boy. "Not much gets past them it seems – all these victims did was cross their path somehow and they got their lives taken for it."

"Wait," Firion said, "there hasn't been any invasion within the last few days?"

"Invasion, no," said the girl. "Takeover, yes. I suspect the fractured states have been too busy keeping power in their hometowns to worry about extending their reach to other regions."

"They've got bigger fish to fry," Lightning muttered, casting Firion a glance that she hoped spelled out,  _I told you so_. "Wonderful."

"I'm Jack, by the way." The boy gestured. "And this is Selphie. What did you say your names were?"

"Claire," Lightning said. "And Frioniel."

The boy raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Interesting."

"What is?"

He waved a hand. "I just know someone with a similar name. Anyway, the murders are pretty weird. There's a chance they're being framed on the resident gang family, but it seems like a bit much work for such a small town."

"Salamand is a nice place," Selphie said, "but there isn't much here for them to steal. Unless they love ice, I guess."

"I certainly do," Jack said. "If I lived here, I'd have iced tea for the rest of my life!"

"Tea," Lightning repeated.

"I've never heard of ice with tea," Firion said.

"Who does that?" Selphie asked, giving him a disgusted look. " _Cold_  tea?"

Jack looked between them. "What? You  _like_  scalding your tongue?"

"You don't scald your tongue," Selphie said, "you drink it slowly!"

"Tea," Lightning repeated. How could they talk so lightly about this?

Firion's lips pulled into a lopsided smile. "Not everyone hates it," he told her.

"I know." She folded her arms, looking between Jack and Selphie. "Can we move on? Where did these murders occur?"

"Everywhere," Selphie said. "There's been seven in total, with one being found by the lake and most others scattered across the town. Magic seems involved with each of them, though."

"Evidenced by the markings," Lightning said.

"Yup," said Jack. Lightning could swear she glimpsed an orange-ish glow to his skin. "Though it doesn't explain the soul fragments. What do you want to know this for, anyway? Goodwill like we hoped?"

"Yes," said Firion. "That's our whole job."

"If you want to contact the family," said Selphie, "that would great! We're a little behind schedule, so we should be going."

Lightning scowled. "Why can't you two deal with this?"

"Busy." Jack waved a hand.

Selphie wrote something on a small paper. "Try to get him at night – that's when he's easiest to reach."

"We need to talk to the family in charge, anyway," Firion said.

"Great!" Selphie slapped the paper into Lightning's hand and pushed her toward the door. "Thanks for stopping by!"

Lightning paused just outside and traded a look with Firion when the door shut. He looked as confused as her. "That was something, wasn't it, Light?"

And for a moment, the scene about her changed. Firion's image shifted to look like that of a child, wearing orange and green clothing and fidgeting with his fingers across his stomach.

Lightning wrenched herself back to the moment and snapped, "I told you to stop calling me that."

"Right." They made for the exit. "Wonder how far we can trust them."

"I'd say not far." Lightning thought of all the strange equipment they had in their room. "I don't know if they even belong in this world."

Firion chuckled. "Maybe not. But we haven't found any evidence to point to another land lying across the sea, so that would be kind of difficult."

"Maybe."

Outside, the low sun sunk far enough that the light faded almost completely from the horizon.

"We'll need to camp here for the night," Firion said with a glance to the tavern. "Should we worry about that after or before we investigate this guy?"

"After." Lightning moved on toward the location drawn crudely on Selphie's paper. "We need to stay focused."

The town hall here, which was barely more than a commoner's house, stood close to the edge of town with a dozen body guards ambling about in tough leather jerkins. Lightning could tell from the inconsistent cut of their clothes that they hadn't come by those through the day market, though the falling darkness made it difficult to make out many details.

"They're not going to respond well to officials," Firion said with a frown.

"Because we're  _not_  official," Lightning said. "Not to them. They care more about those with money and brute force. Come on – we're losing the light."

"Hey!" shouted one of the guards at their approach. "What are you doing here?"

"We're here to talk to your leader," Lightning said, stalking forward while Firion hung back a ways. "Are you going to stop us?"

"Of course, we are!" The guard's friends gathered about him. "Ain't nobody talk to the bosses without a personal invitation!"

"Great," Lightning said, pulling out a small paper holding the runes of a channeling spell. "Not gonna go quietly, then." She shuddered at the paper in her hands and her stomach rumbled.

The guards all pulled their makeshift weapons of spears and hatchets – not a single, respectable sword or axe among them – and Lightning ate the channel spell.

Paper dissolved in her mouth and left an aftertaste akin to cold wood.

Firion leaped in close to her and tossed throwing knives that embedded themselves in the knees of half of the guards.

Those guys dropped, and Lightning threw up a wall of ice to block herself and Firion off from the rest of them. Hilda preferred as few casualties as possible.

They strolled inside as the guards shouted and tried to scale the ice. Lightning ignored them, though Firion remained tense, with his buckler out and fingers balled into fists.

Only a handful more goons met them inside, and Firion easily dispatched them with blows to the stomach and feet. Nothing that they couldn't recover from in the next week or so, though Lightning didn't think they should be so lucky.

Her stomach growled again and Firion cast her a sympathetic look. She shot a glare back. The fatigue would return in a moment and they had to keep moving while she could walk.

With the guards unconscious, they made their way inside. Laughter floated their way, laced with boisterous barks. Seductive giggles mixed with low whispers that Lightning couldn't understand.

They followed the sound to a small, dank room of people playing cards at a rough and worn table. And found two women and three men in nightwear. They chewed on faeseed and joked among themselves like they had no cares to give.

Lightning cleared her throat to catch their attention and placed a hand on her hip. "Hey. You in charge around here?"

They all swore and sprung to their feet, save for the guy in the middle of the table, who looked up at them with intrigue. "Depends who's asking."

"What did you do to the others?" demanded one of the men.

"They'll be fine," Firion said. "I would worry more about yourself, honestly."

"You've been killing people around here," Lightning said. "Why?"

The leader popped another seed in his mouth. "Who says it was me?"

"I do."

The guy leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. "You're wrong, miss."

"Am I?"

"Yeah, it was someone else." The man tilted his head back. "Ulis!"

A faint grunt sounded from outside in response and the man sighed. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't incapacitate all my people."

"What do you expect us to do?" Firion asked. "Let them kill us instead?"

"I expect you to respect another man's property. Most don't go barging in someone's home and accusing them of murder."

"Most people don't have reason to be accused," Lightning said, fighting the bile in her throat that rose at speaking with this man.

"Oh, I see how it is." The guy stood and cracked his knuckles. "I suppose I'm supposed to take that as a compliment."

Lightning made a show of weighing the idea before pulling out her sword. "Only if you revel in bloodshed."

"I already said it wasn't me." The guy stood and fell into a sloppy fighting stance. She suspected no one around here had ever even heard of formal training, and she could use that to her advantage. "Pretty sure it was that blue-dressed newcomer, actually. Something wrong with that chick."

"Uh huh." Lightning yanked her sword free of its sheath and channeled more ice into the ground, startling the men clear of her vicinity. "I don't believe you."

Firion jumped in with a throw of his buckler and stabbed one guy in the foot. Lightning blasted her barrier of ice, sending small splinters flying out each direction.

The men reacted with surprising agility. One of them overthrew the table, creating a shield against the blast of ice while another pulled their coat over themselves. The leader lunged through the storm of splinters and tackled Firion while one of the others took the opening to attack Lightning.

She used her sword to block the man and he retaliated with a blast of wind that yanked Lightning's feet out from under her.

They knew magic – they  _had_ to be the murderers.

Lightning scrambled to get back to her feet, but another body jumped her from behind and knocked her to the ground.

"Just like royalty," muttered the other thug as he pulled a knife, "to interfere so needlessly."

Lightning growled and rolled, flipping her assailant onto his back. She shot to her feet and kicked him into the ground.

The one with the knife took that as a sign to bear down on her, but Lightning was faster.

She slipped out of their reach just in time for knife-guy to slash the air where she would have been. The other guy rushed her, throwing a punch that connected with her face.

The telling crack in her nose sent a wave of blinding pain through her skull, so Lightning dropped another barrier before she paused to blink spots out of her eyes.

The moment lasted for only a second as the same guy that cast the wind spell chomped another piece of paper that dissolved into red light and he blasted the area with a fire spell that shattered the ice and sent a wave of heat up Lightning's back.

Lightning burst forward as the fire died down, the remainder of it singing her clothes. She cut through with a cry, piercing one guy through the heart and kicking the other away.

Beside her, Firion hunched forward as he fought the leader, the former's limbs smeared with blood and eyes frantic.

Lightning yanked a cure spell from her pack and consumed it before sending a bolt of healing energy through her system. The pain of the burns evaporated.

The living goon jumped her again, but Lightning kneed him in the crotch and sent him tumbling to the ground in a moaning heap. "Best not push your luck," she told him.

Lightning looked to see Firion drag the leader, bruised and bloody, to his feet.

"We need answers," Lightning repeated, joining them. "And we're not afraid to extract them."

The leader didn't look her way – he kept his eyes riveted on Firion, who showed little emotion at the pitiful figure he gripped with one hand. Instead, a bloodlust showed in the wild motion of his eyes.

"You'd be idiots to force us out," hissed the leader. "You want stability? You'll get it through not provoking further upset among us lowly folk."

"Not provoking you?" Firion repeated and slammed the guy against the wall. "What is it you think you're doing here?"

The leader spat blood in Firion's face. "Our methods may be beneath you all, but at least we're providing order where there is none."

"You're sowing  _chaos_." Firion leaned in. "These people aren't sheep to be herded! They need new, safe lives after all they've been through with Mateus!"

"Well, now." The leader forced himself to stand straight despite the visible pain it caused him. "If you're so insistent, perhaps you should speak with the big guy."

"Who?" Lightning asked, stepping closer. "Are you saying you report to someone?"

The guy's lips curled in disdain at the sight of her. "Not report. Ain't nobody above us. No, he's more of a supplier. One of those that offers one thing for another, you know."

Firion slammed him again. "Stop dancing around the answer!"

Lightning blinked. She should have gotten used to his temperamental nature in battle, but the quick changes still left her feeling like she worked with a completely different person than the one that spoke with her outside.

The leader now trembled under Firion's grip. "Oi! Don't kill me!"

Firion ripped a spell from his bag and consumed it. "Give us a name and I'll heal your broken bones."

"Leon." The guy swallowed hard. "Leon of Fynn. …  _He's_  gonna kill me, ain't he?"

"Leon?" Lightning repeated. "Maria's brother?"

Firion threw the man to the ground and kicked out his leg before using the cure on himself. "Yeah. Aria wouldn't like this."

"You mean Maria?"

Firion looked her way and blinked, the fierce hunger in his eyes fading. "Maria. Yeah."

"We shouldn't believe him off-hand." Lightning gestured for Firion to follow her outside. "Forcing answers like that has gotten us turned around more than once."

"Then we'll let Hilda know he was under stress. But that's the first real lead we've found in months."

Lightning sighed. The ice they left outside remained pointed and strong in the cold temperatures here. Unless someone took the time to break it down later, they would have a small hallway outside the building for a while.

"Before we go," she said, angling toward the tavern again, "I'm gonna get a drink."


	2. Chapter 2

Hilda sat in the throne room, cape spilling over the chair and horns glinting in the light of a hundred torches. Despite their limited resources, she always managed to look more regal every time Firion saw her. Though something about her countenance looked a touch harried this time, with strands of hair falling into sluggish eyes. It did little to hide the healthy pallor of her skin.

The King Consort, Gordon, sat beside her, appearing almost as regal, but much more alert. Firion and Lightning stood at attention before them.

"We didn't get away spot-free," Lightning said. "Some thugs gave us trouble."

"Thugs," Hilda repeated. "Since when did the common man prove to be an issue for you? Weren't you both gods amongst men?"

"It's difficult to subdue without hurting people," Firion said. "And we're running on minimal supplies. We've not eaten much beyond nuts for the past several days and that encounter in Salamand took a lot of our strength."

Hilda stood and made her way closer. "And Fafses? Will he join us?"

Firion blinked. "Fafses?"

"He has other priorities, it seems," Lightning said. She gave him a knowing look. "All we got was that he has another power he's already reporting to."

Hilda bit her lip, jaw setting. "Another power?"

"We…" Firion swallowed the sticky sensation in his mouth and reminded himself to focus on what was important. "He claimed it to be Leon from Fynn."

Hilda linked her hands behind her back and stepped around her throne.

"Wasn't he Maria's brother?" asked Gordon, placing a finger to his lip in thought. "That could cause some awkwardness."

"Of course." Hilda paced, eyes wandering about the room. "Blood relations tend to do that. More importantly, if the local tyrants have all taken such strong holds over our potential bannermen, then perhaps we need stronger incentives. With thugs and thieves in control, we should find something greater to overcome the common man's base desires."

"That'll be difficult, Majesty," Firion said. "As is the case with a lot of these powers, Fafses, though originating from Paloom, is still a more local man with a history and reputation among his people. The monarchy is new and unfamiliar and will be a challenge to prove reliable given our recent history."

"Mateus' rule was an empire," Hilda reminded him. "He demanded the highest position of authority without giving any power to the people. In entering into the royal pact, these people are being sworn into a network of support, of light and order, instead of simply giving up their resources."

Firion stepped forward. "But they don't know that. They're already beginning to feel like bartering chips to their neighbors, and with our work that's worsening. We have to find a way to prove we aren't another conqueror come to steal from their homes, and that we don't see them as mere pawns in our game."

"They aren't pawns," Hilda said, frowning.

Firion stuttered, "I-I don't mean to say you see them as such-"

"But it's true," Lightning said, cutting him off. "They have no reason to believe you aren't just another power-hungry emperor-wannabe."

"Perhaps if you had something to offer," Firion said. "Something that they need."

Hilda stopped abruptly, hems lurching with the movement. "I can't afford to cater to the whim of the individual. If they won't swear without money or incentive, then I doubt having it would make much difference."

"It could," Lightning said. "Look at how the current powers gained their charge."

"The current powers  _stole_  their positions with deceit and bloodshed."

"That's not the point!" Firion threw one hand to the side. "Have you even been out there since the fall of Palamecia?"

Hilda came to stand before her throne again, eyes cold. "I have. Don't assume me idle, soldier."

Firion deflated. His limbs felt like straw beneath him and his head light as air. He lost strength to think with every passing moment.

Lightning spoke up, "We don't assume you to be idle, Majesty. But you can't know the people without being out among them."

"I  _lived_  among them," Hilda hissed, "or don't you remember? I occupied as common a life as any during the raids."

Firion closed his eyes against the pangs in his stomach. "It's easy to forget, though. Time makes enemies of us all."

Hilda paused for a long moment, lips tight. When she spoke again, her words were clipped and curt. "You will make for Fynn, leaving tomorrow. Speak with the woman in charge there – I have received reports of a similar nature regarding a hidden figure matching your description and they say Fynn knows more than it lets on. You will gather what you can and report back."

Lightning bowed, as did Firion with more reluctance. "Yes, Majesty," they said in unison.

"Oh." Hilda paused before taking her seat again. "While you're out, stop by Gatrea. We have valuable cargo we're transporting through there and the guards stationed could use a break. Now out. I have further issues to address with my advisors."

With that, Firion left with Lightning beside him. Their footsteps echoed in the large room, though it sounded pitiful compared to the grand reflections of Mateus' old palace.

Firion wasn't sure how he still heard those in his memories.

Beside him, Lightning kept walking, but her eyes took on a glazed look. She wandered off to that same place she often did after a mission, her daydreams taking hold.

"Wait!"

Firion turned to find Gordon rushing to catch up to them. "Majesty?"

Lightning snapped out of her reverie as well and raised an eyebrow at Gordon's joining them. He puffed each breath – it was too long since they took him outside. The politics seemed to be taking their hold on the man.

"I wanted to ask," the king managed between breaths, "how you two are holding up?"

Caught off-guard, Firion stuttered, "F-fine, I guess. Why?"

"I don't know, I-" Gordon looked between them and the door to the throne room. "I worry we're pushing you a little hard."

"It's nothing we can't handle," Lightning said.

Firion spared her an amused look. "As long as there's alcohol in it for you."

"That's not because of our missions." She looked away. "It's to help me sleep."

"Oh." Gordon looked between them and cleared his throat. "But you're not having nightmares anymore, are you Firion?"

"No," he said, probably too quickly. "I'm getting better, thank you. The rest tonight will help."

Lightning raised an eyebrow at Firion in mock surprise. She saw through the lie. Gordon, however just nodded in relief. "Good, good," said the king. "Please, if there's anything else we can do for you, just ask."

"We will," said Lightning.

"I know Hilda's not very forgiving, but…" Gordon hesitated and turned serious for a moment. "She's not doing very well. I wasn't going to tell you, since I thought it would go away, but she's been acting rather ill for the past few weeks. I worry about her health, but I have errands to run on the west side of the country and-"

Lightning moved as if to leave. "I'm sure she can handle it."

"That's-…" Gordon paused, then bobbed his head up and down. "Yes, of course. She'll manage. Silly me."

"We'll do our best," Firion said, resting a hand on the man's shoulder. It was almost strange to see horns adorning his golden hair. "You worry about Hilda and we'll do the rest."

"Thank you." Gordon's words rang hollow in Firion's ears despite a small smile. "Thank you both. I arranged a meal for you down in the feasting hall, so I hope you'll fill up without qualm."

Firion's mouth watered and he clamped it shut, hoping the innate desire wouldn't show in his eyes instead. "We're in your debt."

"It's the least we can do." Gordon sighed. "You need a break sometimes."

He left them and Firion and Lightning continued down the hall.

"He's a worrier," Lightning quipped. "Don't dwell on his words."

"I'm not." Firion faced forward. "Not really. He's right that Hilda doesn't seem all that well."

Lightning stifled a yawn. "She'll get over it."

They arrived in the so-called feasting hall that might have once hosted glorious celebrations, but now only held empty tables and some huddling refugees. A couple of kitchen workers stood near the only table with food, and it held a handful loaves of bread, scattered bowls of soup, and a bunch of berries gathered into a dish. A large keg sat in the middle, between the refugees and where Firion and Lightning looked to sit.

Firion held his aching stomach against the sight, and Lightning stiffened beside him. They approached, and the kitchen staff perked up to greet them before setting two mugs of ale on the table and making for the exit.

"At this hour," Lightning said as they took their spot away from the refugees, "I'm surprised she didn't have any other guests to give this to."

Firion barely registered her words as he took in the sight of the thin and green-tinted leaf soup that glinted in the torchlight. The bread smelled fresh and hot, its flour-dusted surface tantalizing in its golden color, and the berries held no sign of dirt despite some being wilted.

Lightning snatched up her mug and chugged the whole thing in seconds.

Firion took a long whiff of his loaf before he tore off a piece of bread and dipped it in the soup. Together, the bread and soup tasted of salt and winnoweed and made him feel safer for the memories it brought of huddling by the fireplace in winter.

Lightning downed half her soup in one gulp.

"Slow down or it'll hurt later." Firion reminded her.

"Shove it."

Not that he was doing much better. Before he knew it, half the loaf was gone.

Lightning dragged the berries closer and popped a handful in her mouth. Firion forced himself to take a breath and count to ten before he followed suit.

They broke in his mouth, releasing tangy juice that trickled into his throat. After that, he finally got to his ale, which tasted not unlike the berries despite a faint sourness. The liquid washed through him and stung the back of his throat just enough to be uncomfortable.

Lightning reached her mug under the keg in the middle of the table and refilled it to the brim.

Firion finished off his bread and drank the rest of his soup before leaning back. His belly ached, and his throat stung, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it. He couldn't remember the last time he ate until he was full.

Lightning downed a third mug before she finally paused and held a fist to her mouth. She made a gurgling sound and swallowed.

Firion noted a bite in the air, no doubt helped by the lack of fires in the hearths. "It's going to get cold tonight."

"So?"

"So, sleep will be difficult."

"Who cares?" Lightning leaned over the table. Only a few berries remained in their dish, and everything else but the keg was depleted. Lightning's words slurred. "I'm… gonna sleep. Just fine."

Firion frowned. Thinking about sleep, he thought there was something else he would find himself worrying about outside of needing to regenerate his strength so they could make it to Gatrea before nightfall. But the cause for concern eluded him.

Once he found the strength to move, Firion stood and Lightning joined him. His body ached, only now remembering the stress from the past week, but he dragged himself to the barracks behind Lightning.

The moment his head hit the pillow, he forgot the cold and closed his eyes.

And found himself back in Fynn. Smoke filled his nose, along with the acrid scent of burning flesh. He stumbled back, the cobble a sharp pressure against his soled feet.

Demons ran rampant about him and Firion watched one tear the body of a young mother to pieces.

Blood splattered against stone.

Firion screamed and stumbled away. "Maria! Guy!" They had to be close. They had to avoid the intruders. They had to survive.

His heart hammered in his chest, and his breath came in wheezing huffs. He ran, but every step seemed to slip and falter. He circled around the same building twice before moving to the town square, where Guy's body laid in pieces.

Blood pooled in the cobblestones.

His heart dropped to his stomach.

"Wait." A girl's voice cut through the panic and the world about him froze. "This isn't real."

Firion gasped out a breath and the scene before him faded to blackness. The smoke and blood and fire vanished in an instant and he felt a cool wind on his sweat-soaked skin.

The translucent ghost of the young girl in simple robes appeared, her long, ethereal hair blowing in a wind he didn't feel and standing in a void of blackness. At his blank look, she said, "Hello, Firion."

"Aria," Firion whispered, though he didn't know where the name came from. "Who are you?"

"A priestess for a god you don't know." With a gesture, she changed the stark blackness around them into a shining temple with marble floors and turquoise walls.

"I've met you here before," he said. "You're not of this world."

"No." She stuck out her hand with a small smile. "Walk with me, liegeman."

He followed her through the vaulted halls of the temple, walking past small shrines and dedications. "What are all these gods?" Firion asked, finding numerous idols he'd never seen before.

"The watchers and rulers over the worlds," said Aria, her lilting voice echoing through the vast halls. "They protect their respective realms and oversee the civilization. They regulate language and progression as far as they are able and work with inhabitants to stave off the worst of the threats facing each planet."

They passed by the carven image of a child with a golden, cloth crown with a teal jewel in the center, and matching robes. Aria paused for a moment to study it. "Some are more integrated into the world's population than others."

"Why are you showing me this?" Firion asked as they moved on.

Aria slowed down to look him in the eye. "Because you're one of those chosen by the divine, and there's a darkness plaguing the universe. Cosmos and Chaos may have ended their conflict, but there will always be those who use the innocent to play their games. We need warriors who can not only fight but know what they're fighting for. Here, I can slow your heartbeat and steady your mind, undoing just a little of the damage done to you in the waking world."

"I don't understand," Firion said as they passed a statue of Cosmos, though her eyes were painted over in red. "What is this place?"

"The Sea Temple, representing the Sovereign Water Crystal and the Fairy King of Blue Terra."

"Crystal?"

She shook her head. "It'll come to you in time. More importantly, I want you to focus on staying well."

"Staying well." The words hit him like he'd repeated them a thousand times before. The one order he didn't seem capable of following. "How?"

"By getting food where you can and by resting."

"But I'm a soldier. I didn't sign up for those things."

Aria grimaced. "I know. But you're under a heavier strain than most people, as is Lightning. The weight of other worlds rests on your shoulders, whether you consciously remember it or not, and you can't afford to push yourself so far. You fare better than Lightning, and I applaud that feat, but it's not enough."

They entered a large room painted from top to bottom in varying hues of dark blue that stretched out as far as he could see. Dotted and sparkling amongst the blue was hundreds – if not thousands – of tiny dots. "Souls?" Firion asked. "Or planets?"

"Both," said Aria. "You'll notice the different colors representing either souls, planets, or systems."

They were too small for him to tell the difference.

Aria stepped toward the center, the hem of her robes brushing over the floor. The light dimmed, and the dots glowed a little brighter. He could make some of the differences now. "My point in coming to you this time is to address your most recent attack."

Firion blinked. "Our mission to Salamand?"

"Yes." Aria smiled serenely, standing still in the stars that glittered and shone about them. "You're improving, I think. But still I can feel your fear reverberate when you enter these scenarios."

"Fear." Firion stepped warily about her. "What are you talking about?"

"You'll remember. Though, it appears that there's something that's causing you to forget or repress our encounters."

Firion frowned and folded his arms. "I thought you were doing that?"

"What would I have to gain?" Aria shook her head. "I'm here to soothe the damage caused you by our rulers."

"Damage." Firion squinted against a stab of recognition, of shattered bodies littering water that held up weight like it was solid ground. "Killing."

Aria stepped up to him and touched his cheek with hands softer than phoenix down. Tears glistened in her eyes. "I'm so, so sorry. You've caused so much pain outside your own volition that it's hurting your soul beneath the surface. You've paid the price only for Cosmos and Materia to reap the benefits. And I want you to heal before you fracture further."

Something about her touch triggered a swelling of emotion within him and Firion blinked back a heat in his eyes. "I don't understand."

"Please do." Aria tightened her lips into a fine line. "If you slip any further from my grasp, then…"

Firion thought he heard the distant cry of a dying god. "I can't hurt anyone. I  _won't_."

"Maybe not. But the influences that come from weakened control  _will_." Aria turned away from him again. "You'll take care. I'd rather you watched yourself with a keen eye."

Firion remained still for a moment, then cleared his throat as if he could dismiss the surge of confusion and foreign emotion. "I'm not going to charge into Fynn blindly if that's what you're worried about." He looked to see a silver and blue star in the dark. "Hilda doesn't believe in reckless charges."

"She doesn't."

"What's this?" Firion asked, gesturing to the star beside him. "Is it a normal planet?"

Aria swallowed and stepped away. "Valhalla. Home of the Red Gods."

"I've never heard of them."

Aria enlarged the sphere, though all it showed was lapping, green shores and swirling discs of metal. "They've only made themselves known to a few worlds – one such person is visiting yours now, but they've avoided letting the people know of their true nature."

"Are they bad?"

Aria pursed her lips. "It remains to be seen. They work separate from the rest of us, and they've only revealed themselves to us recently. The Court of Spirits has yet to side with them officially."

"I'll try to avoid them, then."

Aria nodded. "Please do. Her Majesty Queen Hilda will certainly need your support over the next few weeks and there's nothing to say you would survive a confrontation."

"Are they the same ones that would benefit from the instability you mentioned?"

"No." Aria hesitated. "They've shown a lack of interest in taking other persons, and it's uncertain if they're capable of it. But I wouldn't worry about that for now." She waved a hand. "I've kept you too long and it's time for you to get your rest."

"But…" Firion glanced about them. "I still don't understand."

"Give it time. These things take several repetitions to sink in."

He didn't get the chance to say another word, as the image promptly vanished into nothingness.


	3. Chapter 3

Smoke stung Lightning's nose as she and Firion wandered Gatrea's streets. A mix of children's cries and laughter filled the air, almost lost to the din of shouting workers and clanging metal and thudding wood. The misty, cold, clouded air bit at Lightning's cheeks, warning her of the coming winter. She wondered how many of these people would survive even the next couple of months.

"Where did they all come from?" Lightning asked Firion. "How did they survive Cyclone?"

Firion cast her a weary glance. "You see the problem."

"But that's the  _queen_ 's problem. What are we doing here? Does she want us to go fetch blankets?"

"Crime here is increasing as rations are thin, and it's only going to get worse as the winter drags on. We estimate one more crop before we're forced to rely on storage."

Lightning frowned. "We can't stop everyone from starving."

"No, but if we make it through this winter, then the farmers will start up their fields again and we can focus more on rebuilding. It's just for the day as far as we're concerned – we can set out for Fynn again after the next patrol comes in tonight."

Lightning spared him a mocking look before relenting. "I guess we'll do what we can."

A couple of kids rushed past them, carrying scraps of wood and cloth that acted as weapons and robes. They gushed about chosen heroes and fighting evil.

Lightning quirked a wry smile. As if heroes existed in this world.

"Where's the patrol?" Firion asked, wrenching her attention away.

Lightning hesitated. "I haven't seen a single soldier. Let's change that."

Firion guided her toward a watch tower, erected toward the edge of town. Half a dozen soldiers, dressed in haphazard armor and strutting about like they were some sort of lords, manned the thing.

"Hey!" Lightning called. "Why are you all kicked back here? Isn't there a town you should be patrolling?"

One of them came forward. "And who are you?"

"Your relief."

"Only two of you?"

"The two of us will do far more than all of you together!" Firion gestured. "Why isn't anyone on patrol?"

"Because we're taking a break, kid!"

The man talking couldn't have been that much older than Firion. This past year, Lightning hadn't met more than a handful of people old enough to speak that way.

"Your shift's over." Firion straightened his back. "All of you, move on."

Rippled murmurs of relief.

"Let's get something to eat before we leave," said one of them. "I'm starving!"

Lightning rolled her eyes. "Aren't we all."

The soldiers meandered on, one or two pushing straight past her. With only two of them to watch the town, Lightning wondered if there was any point at all for them to be here until the next shift came. She could only assume the next shift would hold more men.

Somehow, the whole army seemed grumpier since she first joined during Mateus' days. Strange how lack of food and sleep did that to people.

Her head ached. If only she could get a drink…

"There, now!"

She snapped her head up again to see the regiment assault a cart driver. One bearing a load of potatoes.

"Here's our dinner, men!"

Firion was already over there, fighting them off and earning loud protests. Lightning rolled her head back. She didn't feel up to a scuffle right now.

"We've earned our meal!" came a shout. "Would you have us go hungry?"

"Would you have  _him_ go hungry?"

Lightning cracked her knuckles in a lethargic motion.

"Oi, it's not like we were gonna take that many!"

"Really? Because it didn't look that way to me!"

Such loud noises. She wondered if she should intervene. Firion could probably take them all on if he wanted, though that would be a supremely idiotic move. Starting up fights in the middle of the street… sheesh, they were supposed to be protecting people, not endangering them with petty squabbles.

Something blew up and Lightning turned to see the remainder of flames flicker to the sky. The platoon all scattered and Firion stood there with singed hair. He engaged with the other soldiers and tossed some out of his way.

They went flying across the ground.

Lightning quirked an eyebrow and came his way.

The farmer muttered something she couldn't hear and held out a potato to Firion, who refused it. "I won't take your food." At Lightning's approach, he said, "Only one of us can man the tower. I'll patrol."

He started walking away.

"Idiot." Lightning took the potato and chased after Firion. "Hey!"

He slowed down to see her, a frantic look in his eye.

"You earned it." Lightning broke the potato in half and offered him a piece. "Come on. They had a point, dumb as it was – we're giving our lives to the queen and barely seeing anything in return.  _Someone's_  gotta pay us."

"These farmers didn't sign up to feed the army." Firion reluctantly took the half and waved it in the direction of the farmer. Some of his energy dissipated. "We can't take from them every time we show up in their town. What kind of relationship will that build between us?"

"Those guys are just gonna steal it off someone else." Lightning bit off a mouthful. Uncooked, it felt hard in her mouth and had no flavor to compensate. But having something to chew on that wasn't seed was all it needed to taste pleasant.

"I'd rather not become a menace to the people I'm trying to help."

Lightning scarfed down the rest of her half. You'll become one, anyway, if you don't eat."

"I guess."

"Oh, hey!" called a kid sitting on a small stack of crates. "Altaran soldiers!"

Firion shoved his potato half in his bag and Lightning reluctantly paused at the greeting. The kid looked like nothing special, given sand-blond hair and a skin color similar in hue to Firion's. He wore poor black attire.

"What's up?" Lightning asked.

The kid grinned. "I'm looking for the closest airbase."

"Airbase?" Firion repeated. "I've never heard of that. You look familiar – have we met?"

"You?" The kid squinted up at him for a long moment. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Hey, Vaan!"

Lightning turned to find that same gangly guy from Salamand marching their way. "What's this?" he asked, turning to look at them. "Claire! How've you been?"

Firion and Lightning moved as one. They brandished their weapons, with Firion pulling his daggers and Lightning her short sword.

Jack jumped back. "Whoa, hey! Not trying to start a fight here!"

"Why are you following us?" Firion demanded.

"I'm getting a job done for a friend." Jack grinned. "But that can wait until I show you around."

Firion stepped closer. "Are you a spy for one of the village powers?"

"I'm getting directions," Vaan piped up. "Not connected to this guy at all, I swear."

"Cut me some slack!" Jack looked between them, a certain lack of concern showing in the way he stuffed his hands in his pockets and tilted his chin back. Lightning didn't miss a faint redness to his eyes. "Geez! I just wanted to see how you all were doing!"

"So, you  _are_  following us." Lightning nodded to Firion and he took Jack by the arms.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

"You'll come with us to Fynn," Firion said, binding Jack's hands with some cloth of his. "Then we'll report you to Altair and bring you in for questioning."

"Aw." Jack slumped his shoulders. "This is gonna be lame."

Vaan inched away, then snuck off on his merry way. Lightning pretended not to notice.

"We don't have time for your jokes." Lightning turned to leave.

Jack sighed, "Who does, these days?"

"One of us will still have to man the tower." Firion looked up at Lightning. "The other patrols the camp until we're spelled by the coming party."

"Great. Babysitting duty." Lightning spared Jack a scathing look. "And double-time. This is gonna be  _great_."

If only they could hit the tavern.

* * *

 _Artifacts_.

Lightning didn't realize they were carting  _artifacts_  about the country to take back to Altair – Hilda apparently decided at some point that relics were as important as getting envoys from city to city.

They moved on for now, their shift ending hours after it started. They only stayed in Gatrea for so long before they journeyed on to Fynn, which laid less than a day's journey out. They towed Jack with them, who didn't seem to mind the trip, outside of his bound hands. He whistled and cracked jokes as they went along without a care in the world.

 _"How do chocobos get anything done?"_ he asked once _. "They're just big chickens, aren't they?"_

Another time,  _"Wow, this world sure is small."_

_"How long have you two known each other?"_

_"Claire, do you remember your childhood?"_

She barely kept herself from punching him each time. Maybe she should have Firion use that spare sleep spell of his and they would just "lose" Jack in the woods.

Lightning didn't care for towing him along – but it was good practice not to let possible spies loose, so they put some half-hearted effort into keeping him close. Just their luck, Jack didn't seem particularly eager to leave them.

The sun hung low in the sky by the time they arrived at Firion's old hometown, whose reconstructed houses and shops looked nothing like they did when Lightning first saw after the demon raids. The progress here moved faster than it did in other recovering towns, and Lightning wondered if that was for their less-antagonistic relationship with Altair. It did almost as well as Gatrea.

… Actually, that wasn't saying much.

But then, she didn't know of any strong trade routes between the two – they must instead have good means to rebuild on their own power.

Quiet commotion filled the air as residents communed together before heading home for the evening. The smell of animal manure invaded her nose, made more potent by a warm, southern wind. Most paid them no heed – Fynn and Altair were familiar enough that Lightning and Firion didn't tend to meet with hostility near its borders.

"We've come on Queen Hilda's request," Firion said to the castle guards when they reached the entrance. "She would have us speak with your new leader."

"The missus, then," said one guard, gesturing for them to enter. "Right."

Firion exchanged a surprised look with Lightning, but she offered none back. "Why wouldn't they worry about tighter security?" he asked as they passed under the arch of the castle entrance hall. "This is kind of a valuable location to be so lax."

"Then why are you bringing me in?" Jack asked, casting curious looks about them.

Lightning ignored him. "Don't look at me. Never exactly run a town before."

More guards greeted them inside but didn't spare them more than a moment's consideration upon seeing Altair's emblem burnt into their shoulder plates. They were directed to the throne room, which laid in the center of the castle structure and past various tapestries that somehow held after the destruction caused by Mateus' raids.

They entered through carefully-embossed doors. And Firion froze beside her at the sight of the ruler sitting atop the ornate chair in the center of the room and flanked by two guards.

Dressed haphazardly in revealing, purple garb, the lady spouted a curly mane of flaxen hair held back by layers of cloth as worn by a commoner. She perked up at their arrival, with large, dark eyes that narrowed and a full mouth that quirked up in a smirk.

"What's wrong, kid?" the lady asked in a rough accent whilst she dangled a handful of bead strings from her hands. "I don't have a lot of time."

"Who's she?" Lightning asked.

Firion swallowed hard. "An old friend."

The lady snorted. " _Just_  an old friend, mate? By the Four, I didn't think you were so cold a year ago. Perhaps I should have left you to that lamia queen after all."

"Lamia queen?" Lightning looked at Firion. He flushed a deeper pink than the setting sun. Jack let out a low whistle.

"Leila, what are you doing here?" Firion asked, likely trying to distract from the color in his face. "What happened to the old king?"

Leila shrugged. "The old coot saw the wisdom in letting me take over for a change. I was starting to get jealous, seeing all these people get servants and riches just for taking over a small town. I thought, 'why not?' Seemed fun."

Lightning thought of the shops they saw on the way in. "This isn't that small a town…"

"It's midget-sized," Jack said. "You guys haven't seen  _anything_."

Firion ignored him. "Does this mean you've sworn fealty to Queen Hilda? How didn't we hear about this?"

Leila cocked her head, making a show of thinking it over. "I think because I haven't done it yet."

"You haven't do-…" Firion exchanged a look with Lightning again. What, did he expect her to know better than him? Firion turned back to Leila, whose face split in a huge grin. "Don't you want a position in Hilda's court?"

Leila threw her head back and laughed, slapping her knee. Firion visibly struggled to swallow. Lightning wondered what happened between these two that caused such an uncomfortable relationship.

"The  _court_?" Leila bellowed. "You're joking, right? Hey, Marks! Listen to this! They're trying to convert me to nobledom! Hey, pretty boy, you realize I'm still a pirate, right?"

One of her crones, a man in white robes and slicked, blond hair, quipped, "I quite understood that, thank you."

The other, donned in red and a belt of swords, threw his head back and bellowed laughter.

Jack looked between the two with confusion evident in his pursed lips and furrowed brow.

"Yeah," Lightning muttered. "I think we got that pretty clear over here, too. Hey, we didn't come here to hear you gloat – we came to ask about Leon and his network."

"Ah." Leila leaned forward and her humor faded. "On that, I do have an attractive piece of information I bet you all would pay a pretty penny for."

"Depends," Lightning said. "You just said you're still a pirate – how would you know what the throne wants?"

"I'm sure the throne would want it, too," Leila said, "but more than that-" she pointed at Firion- "it concerns that lovely waif of yours."

"You mean my sister," Firion reminded her. "Maria. Because her brother's involved in the criminal underground."

"Yeah." Leila hopped down from her makeshift throne and tossed the jewels aside, sending them skidding across the carpeted ground. "What would she have to offer me, do you think?"

"We'll pay it," Firion said. "Whatever it is."

Leila placed her hands on her hips. "See who's in power, now, huh? Good to see a bit of justice lives on in the world."

"Justice," repeated Lightning. "Inserting your own dominance over a town of unsuspecting innocents is 'justice?'"

Leila put her hands up in a placating gesture. "I wouldn't say that. Having any kind of authority around is, in my opinion, a gross overstep in goodwill toward humanity."

"And yet," Lightning said.

Firion folded his arms. "Your news, please."

"Fine, fine. You know all the people fighting and rising to power?"

"Yes," Lightning said. "We didn't come all the way out here just to hear that."

Leila snickered. "Aye, though I would find that supremely satisfying. No, the funny thing about power is, as you've seen, everyone wants it. Hence your scrambling to get it all sucked up into Altair before chaos takes over, right? Unsurprisingly, there have been parties privy to a big ol' network of people running about and pooling sources to form this huge mess of a connection that these guys use to ferry information back and forth. Secrets and resources get traded and all that, influencing who takes control in each village."

"Would you get to the point?" Lightning asked.

"Now, now." Leila took slow, deliberate steps from her throne. "I wouldn't have this whole castle to myself if I didn't know how to keep a secret. Information is valuable stuff, mate, and I'd be quite the idiot to give it for free."

"Your price," Firion pushed. "Name it."

Leila paused and made a show of looking about her. "What do I want, hm? Aye, that's a question. Got quite a setup for myself here, now that I think of it…"

Lightning felt her patience thin with every passing second.

"Ah, I have something." Leila came closer, every step echoing in the vast hall. "There's something wrong with the dear queen, isn't there?"

That had Lightning draw up short. How did she-?

"I want to know what." Leila swirled a finger in the air. "Everyone's talking about it, landlubbers. Before I swear to Hilda and give her all my secrets, I want to know that I'm not swearing myself to a madwoman. Also, I want a boat. And that kid, if you're not gonna keep him – my crew's a little small for my liking."

Jack stilled, smile vanishing from his face.

Lightning frowned and folded her arms. "I imagine boats aren't easy to come by."

"No, it'll be bloody expensive." Leila shook her head. "Hence the request. But I'll give you what I have on Leon and I bet you a big one that Hilda will own up, especially if she's as mad as they say."

"It isn't as bad as that," Firion said, "but I admit I  _have_  been looking forward to a rematch with Leon."

"And you'll get one, mate," Leila said. "Assuming you ever find him. He's done a very good job of making himself scarce, especially since I finally connected the dots. Guess he got tired of all the questions getting asked around about him."

"Coward," hissed Lightning. "To hide in the cracks like that."

"Maybe," Leila said, "or maybe he's smart and knows how to avoid unwanted attention. You gotta admit, he's managed to take advantage of a land shattered by war and desolation. That requires skill  _and_  guts."

"He's dealing in blood and fear," said Lightning. "I'll prevent him from ever having children again."

Firion leaned her way. "He doesn't have any now. As far as we know."

"Then he won't know the feeling."

"How?" The question was quiet enough that Lightning could pretend not to hear it.

"Better for me." Leila waved a hand. "I was wanting to take his spot – it's more responsibility, but it's also more respect, you know? Might get stuff together and finally rebuild my old ship. Actually, you know what, scratch what I said earlier. I don't want a ship, I want access to all the materials you have in Altair."

"The deal is already done." Firion turned to Lightning. "Before we act on violence, we should let Hilda know."

"We can't afford to bounce back to Altair with every change in information."

"What?" Firion doubled back. "Lightning, we can't just-!"

"Hilda is busy with other things – she shouldn't micromanage everything her troops do. Leila, where was he last sighted?"

"Whoa," Leila said, putting her hands up. "Y'all going and thinking I know where he is? I only repeat what I've heard, and he's done a good job covering his tracks. Now, if you maties happen to have any idea on how to track down the most elusive man in this broken land, then we may have something going for us."

"You said you had something!" Lightning threw a hand to the side. "The deal's off!"

"Can I have a moment?" Jack asked.

Lightning waved a hand. "Sure." She ignored Firion's look of surprise when Jack sauntered out the way they came.

"Hey now!" Leila held up two hands. "It's not  _nothing_ , deary. I gave you solid clues!"

"My foot!"

Firion cleared his throat and nudged Lightning in the shoulder. She shot him a death glare and Leila came closer.

The distance was small enough then that when Leila then leaned in and whispered, they could hear it. "If you'll listen, then I'll give you more. Pretend to walk away."

"What?"

"Just do it."

Lightning sighed and turned on her heel.

"Wait."

And paused at the command to find Leila showing her second moment of seriousness. "I should treat you two, at least."

Firion opened his mouth – to protest, no doubt – but Lightning cut him off. "With food?"

"No, I'll give you both jewels and riches for fun. Of course, I mean food. Bloody hell, it's not like I'd part with any of my treasures – who do you think I am?"

Lightning shot Firion a look that she hoped spelled out her confusion at his ever associating with this lady. He glanced between the two with lips pressed together and brows furrowed.

"No, I think it's time for a proper celebration." Leila snapped her fingers and the guards by the throne stomped once and bowed their heads. "That's better. Follow me – I'll take you two there."

Firion turned to Leila. "Can I talk to you for a moment, first? In private?"

"Don't need to ask me twice." Lightning moved for the door. The sooner she could get some breathing space away from this lady, the better.

If Leon was responsible for this mess, then Lightning didn't know that she could refrain from killing him. She could likely assume that without him, the towns would be a lot quicker to accept Altair's help.

And paused just outside the throne room when she heard broken breathing.

First instinct was to keep moving, but when she found Jack bent over the railing in the entry hall and covering his face with one hand, she second-guessed her survival habits.

With a glance behind her, Lightning inhaled and approached him. "This about Leila wanting to buy you?"

Jack leapt straight into the air and scrambled several paces back. "Hey! Uh, no, it's something else." His voice scratched like sandpaper, his eyes were swollen, cheeks pink. "Nothing important."

Gods above, he was either genuine or a good actor. Lightning wanted to believe the latter. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Jack cleared his throat and swallowed. "Er. Not much, anyway. Kind of dumb for me to get so panicky about it – it's not like… Well. It's complicated."

"Leila's feeding us." Lightning glanced behind her. "And I assume providing drinks as well. Should cheer you up."

Despite the redness of his skin, his jovial attitude materialized again like Firion did sometimes when Hilda's name was mentioned. "Eh. I'm not much of a drinker."

"Not much of a-" Nope, that didn't parse right. "Don't want to talk about it?"

"No, not…" Jack hesitated and glanced around them. "Just some bad news is all."

"You're a terrible liar. I didn't see any letter."

"It wasn't a-…" Jack sighed and turned back to the railing. "Never mind."

Firion came out and paused at the sight of them. "Light? I thought you were leaving?"

Lightning snapped her head to look at him in time for the scene to fade to a sun-bathed terrace by a strange, glass-adorned home. A white-haired boy stood at the doorway, inviting her inside. "Light, my dad says he wants to talk to us."

Light.

"Lightning." Firion touched her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

She shook herself out of it. Jack was still there, though something changed in his expression. Eyes narrowed, focused, mouth just slightly pursed.

"Yeah," she managed despite a sudden shortness of breath. "Just fine."

"Then let's feast!" Leila appeared and clapped her hands and led them on down the stairs. "Argh, you'll never believe the harvest we get from our fields out here! Wait until you see the wildroots!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed the update yesterday - I got horribly sick and couldn't keep anything down. I'm back on my feet, though, so here you go.


	4. Chapter 4

As typical, they found little new information outside of what Leila told them before they moved to the village inn that Leila paid for. Firion was quick to retire to bed, likely for the same reason that Lightning struggled to move like she should. Eating made it surprisingly difficult to stand.

But at least they had  _something_ , now. Apparently, Leon liked to hang near Gatrea, and that was their best bet for a starting point.

Lightning sat with Jack in the dining hall, nursing her last mug of ale before she would also turn in. Jack sat opposite her, flicking crumbs about the table like marbles. He didn't eat much, which came as a surprise. How else did he get such a full-rounded face?

The moment she emptied her mug of mead, she hissed, " _What are you_?"

Jack paused in his fiddling and looked at her like he'd been caught smuggling knives from the barracks. "What?"

"You're not tailing us out of admiration." She gestured. "You've barely asked any questions, and you haven't been digging into the details of our quest. You're not a spy. What are you?"

Jack blinked. "A spy?"

"You'd make the worst kind." Lightning leaned back and eyed him up and down. He still showed youth in his hairless chin and naïve eyes, but he couldn't be younger than fifteen or sixteen. His clothes were strange – dirtied black and white, with a red scrap of cloth tied to his neck. "What, lost your home in what used to be Palamecia? Parents were rich one moment, dead the next?"

He swiped the remaining crumbs from the table before answering, "Not quite."

"Then what?"

"Never met my parents." His eyes took on a distant look and he leaned back against his chair. "Don't even know if they existed. Mother kind of… well, I don't think she picked up random orphans from the pen to make into her own."

Lightning smacked him upside the face and Jack yelped out in surprise.

"What's that for?" he sputtered. He didn't grip his cheek like she expected him to, and his skin didn't turn red from the impact.

"The nonsense." Lightning folded her arms. "Quit it."

"Ugh…." Jack grimaced. "This is gonna be harder than I thought. But I guess it wasn't much better for Eight…"

"For what?"

Jack looked at the ceiling and worked his mouth silently for a moment. "I'm an alien."

"From another land?"

"No, from  _space_." He gestured above them. "Don't belong on your world at all, I'm afraid. Or even in your life. Kind of died a long time ago and all that and now I have to get you to come back with me, so you can join us."

The haze caused by all the ale made her sluggish in processing that. "Are you saying you want me dead?"

"What? No!" Jack threw his head back and groaned. "Oi, I just mean that we have this place where we gather now that we're immortal and I want you to check it out! Geez, why is this so hard?"

Lightning regarded him with a flat look when he finally glanced her way again. "That's bull."

Jack waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah."

"Just tell me what your goal is, here."

"I'm here to pick you up."

"Quit the jokes!" Lightning struck him again. He barely flinched. "I don't have time for any of that!"

He frowned in confusion.

"Just drop the façade!" Lightning threw herself back against her chair. "Or I'll make you regret it."

"It isn't a joke."

"Yeah, right."

"Please, come with me. There's something in this town that'll help you, a machine with such power that it'll change the fiber of your being into something more powerful than you can comprehend."

"Uh-huh."

"Well, I guess it won't technically change  _you_ , but it'll change… Nah. You get what I mean."

"I really don't."

Jack shifted and chewed on his lip. "That's not what you're supposed to respond with."

Lightning slammed the table with her fist. "Give me the truth, kid!"

"It  _is_  the truth."

Lightning groaned and leaned over the table for support. The exhaustion from the day threatened to topple her over. "Fine. Let's humor the thought for now that you genuinely want to take me somewhere for my own benefit, somehow. What would it involve?"

"Looking at an abandoned home in this very town." Jack gestured. "Really, if you asked a single person in this village, they'd tell you about the glowing artifact on the edge of civilization. Some might even refer to it as an object from another realm, others would argue it's just a curse leftover from Mateus' rule."

"You've had time to ask around?"

"Before you kidnapped me, yeah." Jack shrugged. "I like consider myself pretty efficient with my time."

"I'm not dropping everything to look for a hag's tale."

"It's not a – okay." Jack leaned back and gestured with his arms in a wide circle. "Pretend for a moment you could see this world as it is from outer space."

"Space."

"Yeah, the sky. Pretend you could look at the world like you were a bird and everything here was as small as insects."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just imagine it. Form the thought in your mind. Make this world as small as possible, surround yourself in blackness and sparkling trails of light. And make those trails green."

The inn faded, and Lightning saw the vast emptiness of the Cosmo-

She shook her head and snapped herself out of the vision. "You're messing with my head."

"Not quite." Jack leaned forward and plastered a grin on his face. "I'm triggering memories you've refused to recollect. Come on, Light. Don't you remember your pals? Snow? Hope? Fang?"

Those words… they sounded familiar. "No one's called me that before."

"What, 'Light?' That's weird – I could have sworn-"

She broke away from the inn again with the memory of a white-haired child calling after her in the dark and blue atmosphere of broken peaks. "Light! Light, wait up!"

"I can't run off." Lightning rubbed at her temples. "You still need to help us find Leon."

"Leo-" Jack perked up. "You think I know where he is?"

"I think you can find out." Lightning looked up at him with heavy eyelids. "You followed us, and you knew about the attacks in Salamand. That's more than most of my fellow soldiers can pull off, at least."

"What kind of an army is that, then?"

"One decimated by war and starvation." Lightning shook her head. "You'll find out how to track down Leon and I'll consider not having you thrown in the dungeons the moment we get back to Altair."

Jack gave a satisfied nod. "The storm, she calms."

"Oi. I'll take back my word if you try any more witticisms."

"… Yes, ma'am."

"And don't call me ma'am."

"Yes, Light."

"And don't call me – actually, I'll allow that one."

But she'd never tell him it was because it sounded… warm.

Just like she never told Firion.

* * *

The building burned.

Firion gagged on smoke and dropped to a crawl. The door was just a couple of feet away, but his legs and arms moved sluggishly below him. His body didn't react to the demand to go  _faster_.

Burning flesh pervaded his nose and the wood splintered at his touch. Beams crashed to the ground about him and sparks stung his skin.

He crawled forward despite the heaviness in his limbs and managed to reach the door.

Heart pounding, he leapt to his feet and wrenched at the door. It didn't move.

He threw himself against it and the wood shattered. He walked out into the open air.

And met with the purple-tinged figure of a man with long hair, fitted armor, and a spear in his right hand.

Firion's skin crawled at the sight. The man didn't move for a whole moment and Firion's first instinct was to run. His feet didn't move to the command.

The mannequin spoke without moving its mouth. A distorted groan rippled through the air and Firion felt for his weapons.

And found nothing.

The mannequin charged.

And the scenery changed.

It only took a moment for him to recall the name of the white-robed girl that materialized along with the pristine temple and faint chorus of heavenly voices.

It took another moment for him to realize he just left another night. He wrestled his breathing back under control and asked, "Why can I hear that?" He gestured about them and straightened.

Aria smiled at his words, a radiant image. He fought to stay cautious – she only ever confused and used him, it seemed, despite her childlike appearance and soft features. "It's the song of praise for Mwynn's name. Our order is celebrating her presence while it lasts."

"While it lasts," Firion repeated. "This is temporary? This order?"

Aria shook her head and came to stand near him. A warmth emitted from her person, like a stone heated by the noonday sun. "Soon, our goddess will be gone from us and replaced with another. We mourn Her departure, and we celebrate the time She spent with us."

"I see."

"Come." Aria guided him through a new depiction of his hometown of Fynn as it appeared when they arrived. "See how the world heals?"

Firion watched children play around a small, stone structure once used as a statue's stand. "Yes."

Aria showed him a monument built in the center of town, dedicated to the old inhabitants. "The ruler here isn't as bad as some of those you've seen in the past. You dream of freedom, and here it is."

Firion smiled, recognizing some of the older faces that moved about them. "Then… I accomplished my goal after all."

"Yes." Aria took a seat on a bench in the town square, and the people moved about her as if she didn't exist. The perfectness of her dress, its white and smooth texture stood out against the worn and dirtied cobble. "You can rest, Liegeman. You don't have to push everyone to join you immediately."

Firion blinked, feeling like he'd broken out of a spell. "You see us as power-hungry tyrants."

"No. We see you and all those on your world as you are. Your monarchy isn't in the wrong, Firion, and I'm not here to stop you."

"You're here to fix me."

"To fix your body." Aria held out pleading hands. "The mind and the heart are strongly linked, and your heart is so sick that it's hurting your mind."

"I don't  _feel_  sick." Firion looked about them, at the murmuring crowd that moved about like they had nowhere to be and no concerns to resolve. He wondered where such carefreeness could come from.

Aria kept quiet for a long moment. "This isn't that kind of sickness."

She reluctantly dropped the illusion of Fynn and returned them to the shock-white halls of the temple. "When you wake up this time, talk to Lightning and see what her plan is for contacting Leon. I worry for her as well, and the scars left by her own battles."

"Wait. How much of my actions do you influence? Am I myself at all out there?"

Aria hesitated on that before she said slowly, "I don't do it directly." She brought down the silhouette of a man, outlined in blue light and supported by a thick darkness for contrast. She lit a glow around his mind, shaping smaller images of flags and demons near the head. "You see, you have your body and your mind and your own decisions. You were brought up in the ways of the world according to your childhood home, and you had those ideals and beliefs challenged by the very world you thought you knew."

She combined the image of the demon with an angel, and together they made an average-looking woman. The flag was combined with a heart, creating a small infant. "Opinions are very fragile things, and the people you knew as a child will appear very different to you as an adult because you've both changed from what you've seen. I'm merely planting seeds in your mind to guide you in the right direction. In the end, your current morality will overpower whatever I've inspired if you determine it to be wrong."

Firion furrowed his brow. "I'm confused."

Aria sighed, dismissing the image. "It'll make sense in time. For now, suffice to say that I'm only adding ideas to your mind that you might not think of otherwise, and I'm nudging you toward certain options, but I'm not forcing you into it. That's actually impossible if you're not a Creator."

"You're not?"

"Gracious, no. I'm just a humble priestess."

"A spirit one."

"Tell me about your world." Aria clasped her hands in her lap. "I'm honestly curious."

Firion sighed and found a seat on a polished marble ledge. "You know of Mateus?"

"Yes."

Firion blinked back memories of suffocating smoke and burning skin. "He got close to destroying our world.  _Really_ close."

"Not just yours, either."

"You know about that?"

Aria nodded. "The places you refer to as 'heaven' and 'hell' aren't much far from this very temple, to put it in a more human perspective. It caused quite the uproar, and even we of Mwynn's alignment experienced the effects of it."

"Are you a dead spirit, then?"

Aria shifted. "Tell me more of your world, first."

"It…" Firion tried to recall. "Even after the demon raids, Mateus summoned a cyclone to further quell the resistance. It destroyed what remained of our stability, throwing Altair, Paloom… everywhere I've been into anarchy and ruin."

"And how did that affect Fynn?"

Fynn. "We used it to get inside the vortex."

Aria didn't look satisfied at that, her mouth tightening into a fine line and concentration showing through her furrowed brow.

"No!" Firion shot to his feet. "Stop doing that!"

"Doing what?"

"Prodding!" Firion stepped away and gripped at his temples as a pounding headache formed. "You're manipulating me!"

"I'm not-"

"Stop lying!" He conjured his buckler and threw it her way. Aria startled but didn't move out of the way before it caught her in the neck.

She touched it and the buckler dispersed into glittering light without leaving a trace of blood. "I'm not lying."

"Aren't you?" Firion waved a hand about them. "What else is this? This – this shining perfection, this spotless white! How are you supposed to fool anyone?"

"It's my reality." Aria clasped her fingers over her knee. "Not yours."

"How?" Firion looked up. The white was blinding. " _How_?"

"You wouldn't understand."

Firion growled. "Try me! Quit dancing around the answer and speak  _honestly_!"

Aria closed her eyes and took a breath. "I can't convince you of the truth, no matter how I present it." She opened her eyes again. "Do you know how many times we've met?"

"I would if I could remember!"

"But I'm not the one causing you to forget."

"Aren't you?"

"No." Aria stood and came close again. She barely reached his chest, and she looked up at him with the palest eyes. "But I've tried at least a dozen times now. Honestly, if I can't help you, it would be best for me to give up and try to help someone else."

Firion narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps that would be best."

"I won't come again unless you call me." Aria pursed her lips and emotion tinged the edges of her eyes red. "I'll give you until the end of the week."

She vanished with the temple and Firion felt the folds of sleep overtake him again.


	5. Chapter 5

"What are you going to do?" Firion asked Lightning in the fire-lit dining hall. The hour was early enough that the sun had yet to break over the horizon and the land was coated in a bluish tint. Meat and onion sizzled in the cooking pan, nursed by a well-built man. Firion's stomach rumbled at the smell, but he focused on the spells he wrote out on a sheet of runic paper.

He was glad for the chance to break from plain paper despite the extra coin – that stuff tasted like burned wood when it dissipated, as opposed to the faint mint or other edible options that came with properly prepared surfaces. He spared a glance to the neglected sleep spell. Maybe he would just use it to sleep tomorrow night and skip Aria's next visit – her visitations grew easier to remember every time.

Lightning glanced between him and the fire. "I'm going to hunt down Leon and make him own up."

"How?" Firion looked up from his cure spell. "Aren't you being kind of reckless?"

Lightning's steely expression did little to encourage him. "We don't have the time to wait for him to come to us. Given a choice on his part, I doubt we'd ever see his face."

"But is it really such a good idea to chase after rumors before consulting with Hilda?"

"Hilda's going mad." Lightning accepted a mug of gysahl wine from a groggy barmaid. "It's time that we accepted that."

Firion gave her an incredulous look as she promptly downed half the mug. He worried for her, though he supposed he wasn't much of one to talk. He conversed with spirits in his dreams, after all.

At least she was in a… slightly better mood today.

Firion took a breath and got back to preparing his cures. He would only bother with a few of these today – they didn't expect too much trouble and he preferred to save the paper for channeling spells. "Hilda's not insane – she's under pressure. She needs a break, not more trouble."

"It's not going to cause her trouble." Lightning finished the mug and set it on the table with surprising delicacy. Despite being a soldier, she didn't carry the same brusque mannerisms that followed most in their ranks. "We're solving the problem for her. It's a favor."

"How are you going to find him, though? Not even Leila knows where to start looking."

" _Leila_  doesn't." Lightning gestured upstairs. "But I answered some questions last night."

Questions. He didn't want to know what trouble Lightning may have stirred up while he was distracted by the need to sleep and talk to…

Firion rubbed at his eyes as a mild headache came on. He was too tired to talk to people last night. He should have done his reconnaissance, but he was so tired from their excursions that he prioritized resting and recovering.

Which seemed weird when he thought about it. The dinner must have hit him harder than he realized.

Steps sounded from the stairway and he perked up to find Jack. The boy sauntered in with a plastered grin on his face.

"I slept so well!" he announced before taking a seat beside Firion. "You would not believe the kinds of dreams I had!"

"Oh, boy." Firion turned back to Lightning. "You meant him, didn't you?"

"Morning, guys!" chimed Jack, who propped his elbows up on the table and interlaced his fingers. "Who's ready for a mission? Not now, Queen, I'm talking to my buds." He looked away for a moment. "How did he end up  _here_? I can't chase him, now! I'm busy!"

Firion felt his heart sink even as Lightning's voice took on a warning tone. "You said you know where Leon is," she said.

Jack cleared his throat and snapped back to attention. "Of course! Queen says he – Leon – is near here, probably back in Gatrea. He likes to keep near Altair, despite the royal presence. Don't know why."

"Queen?" Firion asked. "Hilda?"

"Nah, this is a different girl. Lady, sorry. Yeah, yeah."

Firion looked at Lightning with what he hoped she recognized as desperation. She considered Hilda too mad to consult, and yet she was willing to accept the word of a babbling stranger?

"So…" Jack leaned forward, capturing their interest. "Who'd like to make a trip down south?"

Firion leaned over the table and rubbed at his temples. "This is nonsense. Do we have anything else to say he's down there?"

Jack gestured with a flailing of his hands. "Altair's right next door if he doesn't turn up, and you two are heading back there, anyway, right? If I turn out to be wrong – and I won't – then you all can just turn right back around and run to Hilda."

"Wasn't he following us?" Firion asked, turning to Lightning. "What if he's manipulating you?"

"I wouldn't use 'manipulating.'" Jack shrugged. "Don't you manipulate people every day you talk to them?"

"I'm not worried about it." Lightning took another drink and took a swig. "It's not like we couldn't kill him if we had to."

Jack sighed. "Fine. But you two make an interesting couple, and I like interesting. Help a guy out? I'm incredibly bored where I come from."

"Hence why you're traveling." Lightning shook her head. "I thought that would provide enough excitement."

"For some people, maybe." Jack leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. "I like to think I'm not most people. Ha! That would require some mad possessing skills."

"Back to the matter at hand." Firion traced an invisible map on the table. "Leon's a loner – it would make sense that he would take residence in such a broken-down place as Gatrea. Did he replace the local crimelord?"

Jack stuck out a lip. "Doesn't sound like it."

"If not, the Ulers are loyal to Hilda," Firion said, pointing toward a map center that didn't exist. "They're the only ones currently sworn to the crown, though their loyalty came at a cheap price. We can move through the place without too many question. Asking around about Leon, however…"

Lightning looked at him. "Could be suspicious. First placing the Ulers under suspect."

"It doesn't have to be about them." Firion frowned. "We can pin Leon's work on something else. Or not make him sound like a criminal. He  _isn't_ , really."

"Not  _yet_."

Jack yawned. "We can figure all that out on the way there."

Lightning stood. "He's right. Let's go."

"Have you even written out your spells?" Firion asked, snatching her hand. "We can't leave yet!"

"Of course, we can't!" Jack waved a hand as the chef came by with plates of food. "Breakfast is served!"

Lightning took a seat again. "We can't dawdle here for long. It's almost a full day's journey from here to Gatrea."

"Not if you rush it!" Jack happily accepted a pile of meat and a loaf of bread. "We can make good time if we hurry."

Firion sighed and got started on his own portion. "He's right, Lightning. We don't know when we'll eat again."

Lightning frowned. "It'll slow us down."

"So will starving."

"Fine." Lightning took a plate. "But be careful not to take in too much."

"Ugh." Jack stuck out his tongue and pushed his plate away. "Just realized that I'm not hungry."

Firion blinked. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. You two have mine."

Firion reluctantly accepted Jack's plate. He could easily eat the whole thing. As he bit into the slightly-sweet onions, though, he couldn't help wondering how much this would cost them.

That maybe they just sold out Altair's resources for two meals and a good night's sleep.

* * *

Jack took them to a rundown mansion on the edge of Gatrea. The building was missing a large portion of its roof and half its walls, and it sat on a hill overlooking the rest of the town. No sign of life followed them and Lightning suspected that for all the wealth this place once held, after looting there wasn't much to be gained from it.

Rebuilding took work, after all, and the townsfolk were more focused on keeping their forges and farmhouses running than restoring an old symbol of power.

"A good hideout," Lightning said to Firion.

He nodded. "Save for the straggling thief."

"They would have given up months ago." Lightning shook her head. "People know the place too well to expect loot to survive longer than a week or two. Jack, you should stay out."

"But-"

"Best not provoke him." Lightning cast him a hard look. "He won't recognize you."

Firion nudged her. "He won't recognize you, either."

"Two is within acceptable parameters as long as he knows one of us. Three pushes it."

"Roger that, ma'am." Jack gave her a strange salute-sort-of-gesture and wandered off, presumably to find something interesting to distract himself. The man was a  _child_.

"Are you sure about this?" Firion asked as they approached the mansion. The yard leading there spanned for ages. "Might be good to have a third party member."

"If it turns to battle," Lightning said, "then I'll take him down myself."

"I don't quite see that happening."

Lightning thought better of asking him to clarify which part didn't seem feasible.

The low sun cast golden beams across the untamed grass that flourished beneath their feet, and upon entering the mansion, it lit up the wood to show the weathered and stained grain of it.

Planks of wood fell from the broken, upper floors and shattered frames decorated the entry hall. It didn't compare to Hilda's castle, but Lightning could imagine this place once hosting some of the fancier folk of Gaia. Its position outside the town's perimeter would have allowed for quite the large gathering on its yard. Lightning assumed that was what the space was used for, at least. Her upbringing didn't exactly educate her in rich-people things.

"What brings Hilda's dogs here?" came Leon's booming voice.

Lightning looked up to find him leaning over the railing of the floor above them.

"She didn't order us here," Firion called back. The distance was enough he had to shout. "We came on our own!"

Leon leaped from his position and slammed into the ground with a deafening thud. The wood, surprisingly, didn't splinter at the impact.

Straightening, Leon asked, "To what end?"

"That," Lightning said, "you can probably guess."

"Not Hilda's orders." He scoffed. "And yet still doing her dirty work."

Lightning rolled her eyes. "You expect her to do it? We have our jobs for a reason."

"Sniffing out places in which you don't belong." Leon gestured outside. "Why can't you leave well-enough alone? You may not understand our ways, but the people are content."

"You feed off greed and corruption," Lightning hissed.

Leon barked out a short laugh. " _Feed_?" He stretched out a sinewy arm. "I  _stabilize_ , woman. This way, even the top bosses have someone to report to and a responsibility to take seriously! I'm culling anarchy as we speak and stamping out the fires of unchecked passions!"

"How poetic," Firion murmured. "I never took you to be so eloquent."

Leon shot him an unamused glance, "Look who's talking."

"It's not meant to be a joke, Leon."

"And Gordon!" Leon turned on Lightning again. "You all dismiss him for a fool, but he's the only one I've met that has any hope of winning the trust of the people."

"Gordon?" Lightning repeated.

"You've been speaking with him?" asked Firion, voice swelling with hope. "Why didn't we hear about it?"

"Because he knew I wanted nothing to do with you and your old crew." Leon folded his arms and lowered his voice. "I'd rather not get Maria involved again."

"I've barely seen her," Firion said. "I can promise you, she's distant from the political situation."

"And doing what?" Leon took on a spiteful tone again. "Healing the horribly wounded? Training children to be killers for the crown?"

"She's…" Firion hesitated and Lightning saw pain twist his brow. "She's teaching in the schools. In Altair. She turned her back on the army the same day that Hilda was crowned – she hasn't seen the castle or the battlefield since."

Leon paused at that, face softening, and something glinted in his eyes. "Is this a lie?"

"I doubt it," Lightning huffed. "Firion's not much of a liar."

"Have you seen her?" Desperation leaked from Leon's voice. "Has she spoken with you at all?"

Firion slowly shook his head, white hair shimmering in the sunlight and tan skin flashing gold.

"I see." Leon turned away and the room went quiet.

Lightning tapped a finger on her arm – it did no good to rush him, probably. But she hated waiting.

Finally, Leon spoke again, and his words were measured and clipped. "And you want me to… what? Give up everything I've worked to accomplish? Say what you will about my methods, I've done far more this past year than Hilda could hope for in three."

Firion remained silent. Lightning took over for him. "That would change if you took the oath. With all the powers bound to you, we could unite Gaia within the week and sweep up the stragglers in months. With one crown and one power, anarchy would become but a child's tale."

"That's not how it works." Leon turned to face them again and something about the lines of his face stood out more prominently, aging him up five years. "Once I break my word, those minor powers are lost, and the states are fractured once more."

"Says who?"

"Says logic." Leon gestured about them. "You expect people to follow a liar? A weakling? One who turns out to be just like the rest? How do you think I did  _any_  of this?"

"You're preventing all these towns from the joining the protection of the kingdom."

"I'm not  _controlling_  them," Leon growled. "I'm  _keeping_  them from being controlled! You're the one tearing them from me!"

"Just bend the knee." Lightning stepped forward, fingers itching for the hilt of her sword. "Swallow your pride and do what's best for the people."

"The  _people_?!" Leon also advanced a few steps. "You think you know what's best for the people? You think Hilda knows? Even Gordon can see the madness in her! What good is a ruler when they go insane?"

"She's not insane!" Firion bellowed. "You haven't even seen her! How can you speak for the people when you make assumptions based on distant rumors?!"

"I. Will. Not.  _Yield_!"

Lightning whipped her sword free and Leon pulled one from his back. Firion took to Lightning's side, two sickles at the ready. "I have one duty," she said. "And I will see it done!"

Leon bristled. "Even against your judgement? I should have expected such from a puppet of the throne."

"Lightning," Firion warned. "We shouldn't-"

She ignored him and charged.

"Wait!"

Leon leapt into motion and pulled up his longsword to block her short one. Lightning twisted out of his grip and rammed the butt of her sword into his kneecap.

Leon grunted and stumbled back from the blow. Lightning chased him across the floor and engaged again at the foot of a staircase. He scrambled under her persistence and lost ground. Lightning all but had him crashing into the staircase.

Until fire burst to life around them. Lightning snapped her head up to see Firion with his hand out, the remains of a channeling spell evaporating from his mouth.

Time slowed and Lightning's thoughts raced. If Firion took Leon's side, then-

Leon lashed out and engaged Firion, who countered with his sickles. Lightning watched them for a moment before she took Leon from behind.

He whipped her way before she got close and blocked her strike. Firion took the opening and rammed Leon from the side.

Leon stumbled, but otherwise held his ground. Even with Firion and Lightning both pressing down on him, the man somehow kept going. Lightning felt the electric tingle of thunder down her spine but resisted it.

Lightning barreled into Leon and sent them both crashing against a wall. The wood shattered on impact and they landed on the grass outside.

Leon thrashed about to get her off.

Lightning threw herself back before calling on a storm.

A bolt of lightning struck the closest tree, causing it to split in pieces. Rain fell from the skies, the first drops splattering across the grass and splashing the rocks.

Leon threw himself at her and Lightning bounced back before striking him with a bolt from the storm. That threw him back with a deafening bang.

Firion, who'd rushed their way, jumped back.

Lightning panted, breath burning her throat while the rain picked up in strength and drenched her clothes.

Leon growled and gripped the spot where she struck him. "This bloodthirst… you know it well?"

She thought of Firion tossing in his sleep, of the fire and blood that overtook them when the demons first set foot in the world. She thought of the screams of terror and agony that plagued her memories. "You have no idea."

Leon struggled to his feet. "Then you're no better."

"Don't push me!"

Firion remained frozen where he was. The flashing lightning faded, and she pulled the energy back into herself. The clouds rolled, dispersing unnaturally fast.

Lightning lifted her chin. "Is it about the power? The control?"

"Don't think me so shallow!" Leon readied his sword again.

That prompted Firion to charge his way. "Don't-!"

"Hey!" Jack wandered over. Lightning forgot he was still here. "Guys, can you keep it down? I'm trying to focus over here!"

" _No!_ "

Lightning's energy  _surged_  outside her control _._ The air blinked white and a deafening crash sounded about them. Firion and Leon flew back and slammed into the ground hard enough to indent the dirt.

"Whoa, hey!" Jack rushed to Leon's side. "Gotta watch that power of yours, you know!"

Neither Leon or Firion moved.

The rain let up almost immediately and clouds evaporated from the sky.

Lightning remembered to breathe.

"Come on, now." Jack's hand lit with a cure and he pressed it to Leon's body. "Come on. Take the cure. Do it. You know you want to."

A blast of bluish light dispersed into Leon's form. Lightning let out another breath.

Leon shot to his feet with a cry and pushed Jack to the ground.

Jack gave an indignant shout before Leon threw himself at Lightning again. She braced herself to repel him, but Leon easily broke through her defense.

The man was fast for his size – Lightning expected more brute force – but she managed to keep her footing for the most part.

Yet she made no progress.

Leon forced her backward and Lightning stumbled. She called down more lightning and readied a bolt.

Only for Jack to barrel past them and take the impact of both their swords. It cut through his uniform and drew blood.

Lightning froze, as did Leon.

Jack turned to face them again and straightened. Then  _summoned a sword out of nothing_. The humor was gone from his face, replaced with an intense and furrowed expression.

The sword he pulled was long and solid. He whipped it to his side, leaving a sparkling stream of tiny lights in its wake, like shards of glass.

Leon charged and Jack rammed the butt of his blade into Leon's chest, causing a sickening  _crack_. Leon crumpled into a heap in the grass.

"Don't make me." Jack's voice was low and Lightning made out a glistening in his eyes. "Please."

Lightning looked between him and Leon's unmoving body. "What in the-?"

"Please stop." Jack tensed, blade gripped with two hands and lowered to his hip. The sword tip pointed her way. "You're dabbling in powers you have no ability to control."

Lightning looked to Firion's unconscious body. "Was this you all along?"

"What-? No!" Jack eased up a bit. "Lightning, I'm only here to help you!"

"I don't believe you." Firion was right – she should never have taken him along. "You fixed Leon – now fix Firion."

"I will. But Lightning, your powers are growing out of your control and we can't afford to let you continue without-"

She called down another storm.

Jack rushed her way and shouted, "It's not a question of can or can't!"

Her limbs locked up and the image of a rocky cliff face overtook her vision.

"There are some things you just do!"

* * *

" _All those who live must someday die. It is our fate."_

_"Reluctance to forgive has long been a human failing. It is man's nature to sin, yet you answer sin with violence upon violence. Is that not itself a sin?"_

_"Please, your highness…"_

_"The password is 'Wild Rose.'"_

_"Whether it be Deist or the bloody edge of the world, we'll get ye there!"_

_"Aria…"_

Consciousness slipped from Firion's fingers and he entered the temple dreamscape again. With a groan, he called, "Why do you keep doing this?"

"I heard you ask my name." Aria appeared in a swelling of light, dress fluttering in an unseen wind. She took a seat on the ridge of a large statue depicting a woman in sagely clothes. "Don't you rem -? Oh. Oh, no."

Pain returned to him and Firion doubled over.

"Oh, dear." Aria straightened. "Lightning's lost control of her powers."

Struggling to stand, Firion repeated, "Powers? What, her magic?"

"Did you see her using written spells?" Aria shook her head and took to Firion's side. "I wish I could heal you as it stands, but it's up to Leon now. If he can move, then he's your best hope. I'll have you know that I'm proud of you for intervening."

Firion groaned and collapsed to his knees against the marble floor as his insides throbbed.

"Dear, dear." Aria hovered close, hands twitching with uncertainty before she took him by the torso and tried to lift him to his feet. Firion pulled himself up just to get her to stop – her attempts were pathetic.

"You're much too small," he reminded her with a pat on the head that she pouted at. "How old are you?"

"Older than you." She clasped her hands behind her back. "But… it's all in the eye of Etro, really. Though Tidus was close to your physical age, for example, he was actually a thousand years old at that point. He stemmed from another time."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Firion paused. "I shouldn't even listen to you – it's not like you're real."

"I  _am_  real, and you know it." She looked up at him with such intensity, he could swear she took on a couple of years. "Please. For your own sake, try to remember Tidus and Cecil. They were your friends, once."

"Am I mad?" Firion asked, looking down at her and trying to ignore the innocent glow of her skin and flowing hair.

"Not any more than Maria or Lightning."

Firion swallowed and the area surrounding them fluctuated, showing glimpses of broken and bloody bodies littered about a burning village. "Because of the war?" he asked.

Aria's eyes glittered with unshed tears. "It's taken its toll on all of you. But it hasn't  _destroyed_ you, not yet. Don't let that change."

The war. Smoking holes for eyes, intestines spread over grass-

"No!" Firion stepped back. "Don't do that!"

Aria blinked back tears. "I don't want to. But you have something festering inside you and it has to be removed."

His parents, broken into pieces and scattered across the village road.

"No!"

Firion shoved Aria to the ground. She stumbled back but didn't quite topple over.

"No!" he repeated in a growl. The imagery about them shifted and a rolling mist overtook the temple, so thick he couldn't make out any details of the marble below them or the ceilings above.

"Crystals among us," whispered Aria. "You took over."

Firion looked about them at the foggy landscape. "I can't see anything."

"That's because there's nothing to see." Aria pulled herself straight again. She swallowed hard. "This… was my prison."

A crystal as large as him faded into view, casting refracted light against the walls of a large cavern. Water roiled beneath them, the quiet turning of it giving off a calm atmosphere.

"And this…" She paced around the coalescing image of a white-haired boy holding a duplicate of Aria in his hands. With a tear-stained face, the boy shook the copy of her back and forth, pleading for her to wake up. The real Aria swallowed hard. "This is how I died."

She folded her arms about herself, as if to hold in warmth despite this place not being cold by any definition of the word.

"Died," Firion repeated. "What  _are_  you?"

Aria looked at him with reddened eyes. "A ghost, as many from your world might define me. The difference, however, is that I'm not undead. None in my realm are – we are but messengers from the afterlife. As you call it."

"Then  _why_ ," Firion fought back the growing sensation of lightness, "are you so interested in  _me_?"

"Honestly…" Aria took control again and phased the environment back to that of the temple. She didn't look at him. "I worry for Cosmos' champions. She uses them in her struggles, but there's little done to compensate for your trouble."

Firion reached out again and took the image about them. He warped it to something from Aria's memories and landed them on a broken ship with a towering crystal structure above them.

"What are you saying?" Firion asked, looking up at the staggering tower. "What is this?"

Aria glanced between him and the tower. "There are many worlds out there. I come from one with floating continents and crystal towers. I come from a world where fates are governed by the will of Crystal gods and the unpredictable faeries. I died, but in death, I joined a council dedicated to assisting in the development of other worlds."

"So, you came to mine, because…?"

"Because I want to help  _you_." Aria dispersed the tower and the ship and took them back to the shining temple. "You're deeply entwined with the fate of this world, and it's critical that you stabilize yourself before you can be much help for it."

Firion blinked as his limbs turned cold and clammy. "What about the others? Are they not important?"

"Everyone's important." Aria sighed and took a seat again. "But they've learned how to cope with their trauma. In tearing you from your world and thrusting you back, I fear Cosmos has upset your already-fragile state of mind. And then Materia did it again…"

"Cosmos and Materia." Firion took a breath. "I know those names."

"Goddesses. One died long ago, but her heiress has inherited the same legacy. I wish they would leave your worlds alone, but I'm just a lowly priestess. I don't have a right to interfere with their struggle."

"Death." Firion forced a breath down his weakening throat. "It's better than life?"

"In some ways." Aria traced a finger along the patterns in the statue ridge. "But there's more to do. Without physical limitations, your responsibility increases, more so or less depending on which Eternity you serve."

Firion thought of the screams in Fynn, fire burning around him, a part of him finding the thought of release appealing. Expected, even.

"Don't fight it." Aria looked up with pleading eyes. "Those thoughts will only hurt you in the end if you struggle too much."

Firion shook his head. "I can't."

"You can face it, though. Controlling what you think about is difficult, but it's impossible if you fight it. Let it in without fear or hate, and only then can you let the pain fade."

Firion relaxed a little, causing the memory to seep into the air around him. He saw the bodies fall, bloodied and mutilated at the hands of the demons summoned by Mateus. Smoke filled the space around them, smelling of sulfur and burnt flesh.

His legs gave way beneath him and Firion crashed to the ground.

Aria kneeled by him. "It's terrible," she said, rubbing a hand over his plated shoulder, "and inhuman, but it's in the past, now. It's over."

He couldn't look at her. The sight of her perfect gown and hair was too much amid the sea of violence. He focused on the blood filling the cobblestones at their feet and soaking into his hair.

"It'll happen again," he rasped, strength fading. "And I have to stop it."

"And you will." Aria stood and light gathered about her. "Liegeman, heal thyself."

Firion felt a rush of energy, like white magic condensed about him. Warmth flooded his person and he found the strength to breathe.

"No more denial," Aria ordered, voice firm. "You are who you are and you saw what you saw, but that shock does not define what you can become." Aria took his head with both hands and forced him to look at her. "Or how the future looks for you and your world. Your weakness is not the sum of your parts."

Firion leaned into her grip, her holy touch filling him with a soft sense of courage. Like Cosmos, but… younger. More innocent. Not naïve, but idealistic.

… Like he used to be. "Thank you, Priestess."

Aria touched her forehead to his, though she had to bend almost completely to the ground. He forced himself onto one arm to make it easier for her. It didn't hurt quite so much anymore.

"May the goddess bless you," she whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

Firion snapped his eyes open to see Leon leaned over him while a cure faded from his hands. Leon's face was red and angry and snaked with branching sores. Lightning trees.

Firion reached for a cure spell, only for a burst of pain to hit him. It shot up his spine and around his middle. He bit back a cry and threw his head back.

"You'll have to make do with that," Leon said. He wiped his hands against each other and winced. "That was the last cure I had. Only used it on you because Maria would want you to live, you know. Honestly, I could care less."

Firion groaned and twisted about to find a position that didn't aggravate his blisters so much. "What did she  _do_?"

"Thundered us both." Leon pulled his shirt up to show more branches. "But I think that other guy dropped his own white magic, because I should have a few broken bones right now.

"Where is she?" Firion managed through grit teeth.

"Gone." Leon all but bit the words out. "Ran off at some point while we were out. The coward."

Firion forced every breath through his nose, as if it would stave off the flaring pain. "Lightning's… not a-"

"Doesn't matter what she was before!" Leon forced himself to his feet with visible effort. His armor and clothes remained mostly intact, though his neck and shoulders looked like they'd seen better days. "I'll kill that bitch!"

Firion tried to join him, but the motion brought a sharp stinging sensation to his middle. He had to get to his pack…

"Leon." Firion blinked back tears of pain. "My pack. It came off during the fight, but I had half a few curas prepared."

"That won't be enough to fix all this."

"But it'll make a difference – come on, I know you need to heal, too."

Leon sighed and moved off. "Where?"

"I honestly wasn't paying attention – too busy trying to not let you kill me."

Leon returned shortly and ate the first spell. "Ugh," he said as it dissolved into blue light. "How do mages stand consuming these all the time?"

"I think they get used to it."

White magic enveloped him and Firion basked in the sweet relief that washed over him. The pain eased and feeling returned to… his fingers? He didn't realize they'd gone numb. Forcing himself into a sitting position, Firion offered to take the other two curas. Leon regarded him with a suspicious look before disgust apparently overrode his caution.

Firion ate the first one, which dissolved on his tongue with the faint taste of flowers and spring water. Using mana that ebbed from his core, he gestured for the white magic to take Leon. It did and enveloped his person in bluish-white light, causing the branching blisters to fade to silvery scars. He repeated that for the second one.

Leon didn't hide surprise at that. "You look like you needed that more than I do."

Firion shook his head and grimaced at the vertigo that came with the motion. "I'll manage. Consider it compensation for my letting this go as far as it did."

"Compensation?" Leon hissed. "Imbecile! This doesn't  _begin_ to make up for the damage you two caused!" He pulled his collar down to emphasize the lightning tree. "You think you could make up for  _this_?"

"How about the years you spent with the empire?" His head still felt light and the ground swayed below him and every word took effort to utter. But he forced himself to stand. "You left the rest of us to struggle on our own. What kind of brother does that?"

Leon yanked his collar back down. "One that's learned to move on to the more important things in life!"

Firion's blood boiled and the pain faded. "Like power and control?"

"You don't need to understand." Leon stood. "I have my reasons."

"You keep repeating that!" Firion blocked him from leaving. "It's like you don't believe what you're saying!"

Leon rounded on him. "I do! I believe in myself far more than I could ever hope to in you or your childish monarchy!"

"Why not?" Firion shoved at him. "You consider yourself too elevated for such things?"

"No! I simply know better!" Leon kicked him back and Firion stumbled. "I tried to teach you this early, but you refused to grow out of your ideals! What does it take to show you the world isn't so simple as you want it to be!"

"It isn't simple!" Firion straightened and readied an axe. "I know that! But it doesn't have to be so awful as you would have me think! Did you seek out corruption simply to prove yourself right?"

Leon scoffed. "I've told you why. You would just have me change my words to match your perceptions."

"I-!" Firion scowled. "You made me to feel small and weak back then, too. Your words won't affect me any longer."

Leon turned on his heel. "Didn't they just do so? Never mind – I have work to return to."

"Like hell!" Firion used his sleep spell.

And hit Leon.

The man crumpled to the ground.

Firion could move, but the sheer fatigue was going to be a problem. He glanced toward Leon's unconscious body. Best to take him along.

Firion pulled rope from his bag and got to binding Leon's limbs before he started the journey of dragging him along toward Altair. Every part of him ached and every fiber begged for rest, but he couldn't afford it.

Not now.

* * *

She distantly registered the warmth of another body against hers. Legs dangled above the ground and one of her arms swung at her side. The other rested against her chest.

Hands gripped her at the hip and shoulders, with arms snaked under her knees and neck. She blinked bleary eyes against sunlight and felt the tickle of hard cloth against her cheek.

In the corner of her eye, she made out dancing grass and the shifting shadows of the setting sun. Looking up, she saw blond hair framing pale skin. Jack.

He carried her without any hint of trouble, his grip strong and steady. Lightning tried to force out a biting remark, but all she managed was a deadened groan.

Jack cast her an amused grin despite a new paleness to his skin and announced, "Silver sand and green shores."

Her vision flickered, and she saw Valhalla. Stood in its grey beach with plate metal pressed against her body and feathers tickling her thigh. Held an ornate sword in one hand and a buckler in the other.

From here, time moved and yet didn't. She watched its progression, but it was merely an echo from the Historia Crux. Were Lightning to leave, she could appear at any point in her sister's life or her friend's. Or even beyond theirs, or in between. The only point she couldn't return to was her own before Cocoon's fall.

She watched her sister talk with a friend, find the fiancée, and reunite with the dead. She watched a boy change to a man and take over the leadership of humanity. She watched two ageless forms sleep in crystal, unchanging and untouched. She watched a child reunite with his father in a space between time and the void. A bodyguard take a bullet for his charge, two apparitions guard an eternal tower, and a girl lose herself to the merciless timeline.

Lightning bowed her head.

She'd grown up to protect her sister and friends, and yet she stood here in Valhalla without the strength to help her now. They each held the weight of the world and all of time on their shoulders, alone and unaided. One wandered under a sun that shone only on crystal dust, another watched the end of the world through fading eyes, and yet another swore to bear up the entirety of Cocoon.

Yet Lightning could only watch. Watch and fight.

Her endless struggle with Caius, her inability to interfere in the mortal world as bound by time… what good was she in this state? She may be as a god, but what did it matter if she couldn't even speak with her friends like she yearned to?

"Cocoon," came a distorted voice, "cast from society and reviled. Long days full of walking."

She kneeled against jagged rock and over a child's sobbing form, whose white hair was matted. The skin of his leg broken by a protruding bone. She'd seen similar things in the force – this wasn't new to her.

But this case made her stomach churn. This boy had never known a life outside of his cushy parents' home and field trips at school, and broken bones hurt like hell regardless.

"Don't look." Lightning shoved the bone back in, which earned a blood-curdling scream from the kid. It pierced her ears and set them ringing. She bit back a remark on his weakness and pulled out a strip of cloth.

More sobs that turned to broken breaths. Then back to crying. "It hurts," he managed through a hoarse throat. "Make it stop."

"Working on it." Geez, was  _she_  such a baby when she broke her arm at ten? She'd have to watch this one's health more closely. Or draw the fire away from him.

She wrapped the cloth as tight as she dared around his leg. More choked cries, nerves likely aggravated by every motion. Lightning didn't want to keep hurting him, but if he wanted any semblance of a normal leg after this, she had to take it slowly and carefully.

Blood soaked through her gloves. She'd have to clean those out later.

With the leg carefully bandaged, she summoned white magic.

Light enveloped them both as nature heeded the call to hasten the healing process. A snap sounded, the mark of bones knitting back together, and the boy gasped out several breaths in shock.

The cure finished and expelled the cloth she'd used. Stained and torn, it fell to the ground to reveal new, pink flesh. Lightning poked and prodded at the leg to make sure all the skin was replaced. The boy sucked in a breath and held it.

Satisfied, Lightning leaned back. "You'll live, kid. Now go to sleep."

The boy's sporadic breathing slowed. "You're sure?"

"Yeah." She wanted to smack him for his naivety, but she knew that was really on the heads of his parents and being too lucky to experience these things earlier. "I'll take the first watch, so you can rest."

"Thanks, Light."

When she went looking, though, she couldn't find any nearby water source to wash out her gloves.

"Sister's birthday, smiles you didn't know you would miss…"

Sunlight filtered through sheer drapes. Claire dashed through her bedroom, searching for the toy she bought for her sister. She saw it in the store the other day, and she thought it was exactly what the baby wanted.

Though, she couldn't remember what exactly it was. When she found a blurry shape under the chair, Claire blinked at it and turned it over in her hands. Her skin fuzzed out on contact, though she felt hard plastic.

She looked up to find the room itself out of focus. This was such a distant memory, and the details weren't relevant to her later in life.

Claire held the unknown object in her hands and stepped outside her room to find a clear hallway, its carpet soft under her feet. Brown specks showed among white, a design thing that adults liked.

At the end of the hallway, she heard the door open. Mom was home.

Claire rushed to meet her. She was bringing home the cake for her sister's birthday!

When she found Mom, though, the woman appeared sick. She looked at Claire with sunken, sparkling eyes and her expression turned very sad. She took Claire in a tight hug.

"Your father's not coming home, sweet one."

"Why not?"

"He's gone away, to somewhere we can't follow. But it'll be fine. Everything's fine."

"What about that big, guy, huh? Beach-blond hair and bigger than life?"

The man who insisted on referring to her as a sister. The man with a black cap and a long coat with frayed edges. He sat by a running river, framed with flowers on its miniature banks. He toyed with a long stalk of grass and chewed on his lip.

Lightning sat near him, hair dancing about her face with the cool wind and vision framed in shadow thanks to twilight's arrival.

"What do you think happened to him?"

Lightning shook her head. "What PSICOM does with its l'Cie-tainted prisoners is beyond me, but you shouldn't get your hopes up."

"And what does that mean for the boy?"

"He's on his own. Not the first time it's happened to a kid his age."

"I know that." The man gripped the stalk tighter in his fist and his face scrunched up. "But… I had one job. Just  _one_  job."

"And you did it." Lightning looked away. What point was there in talking about this? "Move on."

"It's a little more complicated than that." The man grit his teeth and ripped grass from the ground. It grew in such wild patches, Lightning didn't stop him. Not like they had the weak, manicured lawns of Cocoon to worry about anymore.

At length, Lightning asked, "What were her last words?"

The man fell still. His wind-teased hair danced about his eyes and his eyes focused on the grass below him. "'Bring him home.'"

"And that's exactly what you did."

"But-"

"No excuses." She stood. "I'm tired of hearing them."

* * *

Lightning startled out of the vision in time to see broken light and metal emitting from a strange artifact in one of Fynn's streets. She tried to move. "No-!"

"Hush, hush." Jack continued forward and they stepped into a blinding light. "Remember Cocoon's fall, seeing your friends again."

Another vision overtook her, this one depicting a large field…

* * *

When Firion finally arrived at the Altair castle, he dropped off the protesting Leon with some guards and earned several angry shouts and threats before he came to the ornate doors that led to Hilda's room.

"Let me through," he growled, voice echoing down the hall.

"Sir!" One of them puffed their chest out. "With all due respect, no one's supposed to-!"

"Firion!" Gordon appeared from around a corner and rushed his way. "There you are! Where's Lightning?"

"Why didn't you tell us about Leon?" Firion turned on him.

Aria appeared by Hilda's door. Firion barely spared her a glance despite him never seeing her outside of dreams. Gordon looked between Firion and the door. "You have to understand, I couldn't let her know!"

"That you were talking with the very man that could unite half the land in a day if wanted?"

"No-!" Gordon held out pleading hands and lowered his voice. "Please! There's a – there's  _something_  talking to her, that she's talking  _to_! The rumors, they hold some truth, and I couldn't let them become a reality! I've taken control of most matters, but only because she doesn't realize!"

"And you didn't seek help?"

"I did! Through Leon!" Gordon's lip trembled. "Please, my friend! I love Hilda! I'd give anything to see this darkness cast from her mind, but as it stands now, she's obsessed with her order and light – we can't afford to push her!"

"We can't  _afford_ ," Firion said, "for this to continue plaguing her. Whatever it is, it ends now. The secrets stop!"

Gordon let out a strangled cry as Firion threw one guard to the side and shoved the door open. Ignored the wispy image of Aria and strode inside.

Hilda, who was sitting by her bed, leaped to her feet. "Scott!" she exclaimed with hope before she saw Firion and her face turned hard. " _Firion_."

"You sit idle," he announced as he moved, "while civil war threatens the very kingdom you speak for."

"Please, hush!" Hilda flicked her cape behind her. Her sovereign horns lay on the bedside table. "It must be quiet for me to hear him!" She gestured about the room. "The light requires attentive ears and all that."

He kept walking, trying not to think of how much blood soaked into his shoes from injuries that opened around his knees. "I would follow you to the end of the earth," he said, "but you have to wake up from the hold of this beast."

Hilda scoffed and took a seat again. "What  _beast?_  Are you insane?"

"I should ask the same of you." Firion came to stand before her and gripped his sword hard enough to make it dig into his palm. The pain centered him. "Your mind is clouded."

"Stop this," Hilda demanded. "Let's talk normally."

"I will not have your new god command me! Tell me what he tells you!"

"He doesn't like sharing secrets." Hilda's eyes hardened, and she straightened her back, placing her hands before her to rest on her skirt. "I'll have you hanged for this."

"I'm hanged for going against your orders already." Firion drew himself to his full height as Gordon took a tentative spot beside him. "I went to Gatrea and met with Leon. He's now waiting in the lower portion of the castle."

The unhinged airiness of her words evaporated. "You  _what_?"

Gordon shot Firion a shocked look. "He's what?"

Firion felt an ache near his middle. "He refuses to meet with any of his old party. Only Gordon – one unfamiliar with him and his past ways – will do. Or so it seems."

"He wants an unfair judge of character." Hilda flicked her wrist. "To cover up his previous corruptions, no doubt. How can we negotiate with someone like that?"

"Whether he's corrupted or not, he's our only bargaining option!" Firion threw his hand to the side. "Look at us! We're a ragtag gathering of commoners and fighters calling ourselves a monarchy! If we want to accomplish what we initially set out to do, we have to try other options outside bullying the local tyrants!"

"Gordon." Hilda turned to her husband. "Do you agree with him?"

The man swallowed hard and looked between them. "Honestly, I don't know."

"You don't know?" Hilda rolled her eyes and looked toward the flames dancing in the hearth. "I know one that does."

"You've been seeing Scott!" Gordon blurted before hastily adding, "Hilda, even you must realize what it means for the rest of the country if you've lost your mind!"

"I haven't lost my mind." Hilda moved to stand near the fire. "I've seen the order and peace that comes with aligning myself to the Light."

"What is this light?" Firion asked slowly.

Hilda remained quiet for a moment. Gordon swallowed hard.

"There is a power beyond ours, capable of…" She hesitated and glanced their way. "… Salvation, by another name. The hunger and fear… He can stop it."

"He?" repeated Gordon. "Scott?"

"No, Scott is-" She shook her head. "He fades in and out of view. He's here and yet he's not. He tortures me, allowing me to believe that he can return from a place not meant to send him back."

"You've never seen him, though!" cried Gordon. "You only mistake me for him when you're feeling unwell."

"I know what I see." Hilda's eyes glinted cold. "I can differentiate between brothers. Or do you consider me completely mad?"

Firion hesitated. "Well…"

"Not entirely!" Gordon came forward and dropped to his knees beside her. "But we must make contingency plans! My love, there are some tools better fit for a task than others! And as it turns out, I am that tool to speak with Leon! Perhaps he won't listen to me in the end, but even I recognize this to be our best chance!"

"She needs to rest."

Firion jumped when Aria took to his side. He'd forgotten she was there. Gordon lowered his voice to speak with Hilda.

At Firion's expression, Aria explained, "Broken minds are more susceptible to the control of outside forces, and your queen has been under tremendous stress for an extended period. It's not just her – we recently lost the ruler of another world to possession, and I doubt that would have happened if he'd just…" She shook her head. "Never mind that. Hilda's progressed far further, and we should focus on providing her a chance to recover."

"Highness," Firion said slowly. Hilda and Gordon looked to him. "Perhaps, for your own sake, it would be best that you… take it easy. Not step down completely, of course, but share more responsibility with Gordon and delegate as many tasks as you can to your subordinates."

"You overestimate their competence." Hilda huffed. "I can't imagine them fitting into the new order."

Gordon gawked. "Is that why you've been ignoring so much of their advice?"

"It's not advice." Hilda tossed her head "It's poison. They would manipulate me only to their own ends and use me to as a stepping ladder for their power struggle. I won't let my own court become like the rest of the world!"

"You make too much your own duty," Gordon whispered. "Please, allow me to be more of a king than I've been. I want as much of a purpose in this rule as you."

"I thought you had such?"

"No." Gordon touched his forehead to her knee. "No, that's not what I want. I want you by my side, now more than ever. You've been near me physically until now, but I need your mind and heart as well. Please, take a rest just for a few days. If you truly can't stand it, then you can go on. But until the sun sets, delegate what you can to me and I'll handle it for you."

Hilda pushed him off and stood. She turned to face Firion. "You commune with the dead, liegeman?"

Firion blinked. Aria froze up beside him. Through the exhaustion clouding his mind, he managed to ask, "What?"

"I can see her. Like the God of Light, she hangs near." Hilda stepped closer. "Not unlike the morning pall over a lake."

Firion frowned but didn't resist when Hilda stopped a foot away to observe Aria. Hilda asked, "This is how you would take my power?"

"I haven't made myself known to you," said Aria. "How is it you see me?"

"I…" Hilda worked her mouth silently for a moment and smiled in a humorless fashion. "I knew the dead as well as I knew the living when the Light took me for a vessel. Before He found another more suited to his needs."

"Firion?" said Gordon with darting eyes. "Firion, what's going on?"

"Another?" repeated Aria. "Bhunivelze has visited this world?"

"Not so long ago, either." Hilda licked her lips and turned back to the fire. "He left marks. So many. But it was the price for an elevated mind, one familiar with the miraculous machinations of the divine. I have seen eternity and for it… this world appears so lacking."

"That's not right." Aria put a hand to her mouth. "He would have only possessed her for a day or so – that's not nearly long enough for him to affect her mind like this. I can't see a single scar on her face."

"He left them." Hilda pressed a hand to her side. "Be assured."

"Firion." Aria turned to look up him. "I have to go. But if you ever need anything, feel free to pray to Mwynn – She'll send someone to help you."

"Where are you going?"

"To tell the others." Aria's form evaporated from sight. Her voice lingered, "Good luck."

At her departure, Hilda faced Firion, features sallow. "And what do you get out of this?"

"I want my queen." Firion gestured to her. "We need the old Hilda back, and if stepping down from your duties is what it takes, then I would pay that price. You used to govern with such majesty and finesse despite our limited resources, and yet it seems the more progress we make, the more we lose of you."

"We must turn out the old for the new." Hilda lifted her chin. "Progress is needed for light to continue to shine on order."

"Gordon." Firion took the other man's shoulder. "Force her if you must but ensure that she rests."

"What are you saying?" demanded Hilda.

"I understand." Gordon bowed his head.

Firion nodded and left them. The guards scrambled to attention at his approach. "Do as Gordon commands," he told them. "I'm going to go sleep."


	7. Chapter 7

When Firion woke again, his skin still ached with the lingering pain from Lightning’s attack.

He groaned and rolled over in his bed. The barrack room was dark and he found no indication of the time, save for the various other soldiers still snoring in their cots and hammocks.

Firion burrowed further into his blankets for a moment and pretended it was still the middle of the night. If it were, he could get in another few hours of sleep and-

“Up and at ‘em, ya dogs!”

He groaned. Some scrambled to their feet around him, others gave shouts of annoyance.

“Even you, Firion.” Large feet stomped his way. “Sorry to say it, given the circumstances, but your presence has been specially requested at that palace.”

“Hilda asking again?” snickered nasally soldier. “Sneaky minx, that woman is.”

Another said, “I don’t know man – Gordon seems more like his type, if you ask me.”

Bellowed laughter filled the room before the sergeant reprimanded everyone with a bark and his steps retreated. It didn’t take long for the others to file out and for Firion to blink his eyes open to an empty barracks.

Burns protesting, he dragged himself to his feet and dressed, donned his armor, and washed his face at the basin.

Then squared his shoulders and left for the palace. If Hilda still insisted on that accursed throne, he swore to himself that he would rip both her and Gordon’s heads from their necks.

The corridors of the palace proved busier than usual, with scattered servants asking after Hilda. Firion ignored them and climbed the stairs toward the council room. Firion moved along through Altair castle.

Gordon hadn’t reassigned him thanks to all the confusion, and Firion couldn’t complain. It felt almost like he was missing a limb, not having Lightning to go out on the next assignment with.

But it meant he got a chance to rest for a few days, especially after that incident in Fynn and all the pain it brought him. As it was, each step caused a slight wince as it aggravated his burns. He should probably visit the hospital when he got the chance to see what their white mages could do about it.

When he finally approached the doors, Gordon burst forth and drew up short at the sight of him.

“Firion!”

“Yes.” Firion stifled a yawn and rolled one shoulder in its socket. “You called.”

“It’s Hilda!”

Firion shook his head. “Of course.”

“She’s gone.”

“She’s-” His mind blanked. “She what?”

Gordon glanced around, eyes frantic. “I woke up and she was gone! We’ve searched the entire palace twice over with no sign of her!”

“And the town?”

“I’ve checked all her usual sights.” Gordon wrung his hands and gestured inside the room. “Here, join me.”

They entered the council room, where Hilda’s usual staff of a dozen mages and wise men argued in groups of two or three. Firion caught pieces of the conversation, mostly regarding publicity, policy on Gordon’s rule, and other legal jargon that Firion never learned to follow.

“We’ve not told anyone,” Gordon said before he took his seat at the head of the table, “because I have no idea what to say. A monarch, running away from her post? Who’s heard of such nonsense? This is her home!”

“There’s no case like this that’s been accounted for,” said one scholar that took after Minwu’s appearance. A relative? “We’re working on a plan, Majesty, there’s no need to worry.”

“No need to worry?” repeated Gordon with disbelief. He stuck out his hand, palm up. “We’re still recovering from winter, we’ve made no progress with uniting Leon’s self-proclaimed factions, our rations are at an all-time low, and my wife has just disappeared! I think I’ve earned a right to worry!”

“You’ve earned it,” Firion said with a sigh. “But I think it would be good not to take advantage of it.”

Gordon huffed. “You’re right. Of course. Instead I have to devote my time to ensuring my people don’t panic with this development.”

“We have our best men working on it.” The scholar bowed his head. “Including myself.”

“Yes, yes.” Gordon looked at Firion. “Though I honestly doubt we’ll find Hilda if she doesn’t want to _be_ found.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Firion turned to see the other advisors. “I didn’t consider that. Anything I can do? I never was much of one for politics, but perhaps-”

The doors burst open again, this time to reveal one of Altair’s scouts. “Sir Firion!”

“You found the girl?” He’d forgotten about that in all the excitement. “That was fast.

The scout nodded. “She’s here, sir. In Altair.”

“What?” Firion looked to Gordon, who waved a hand in dismissal. Firion gladly took the chance to rush out the door with the scout. “Where?”

“A local tavern.” The scout handed him a paper. “Follow this and she’ll be right there.”

“Thank you.” Firion handed him a coin. “You’ve earned it.”

“Appreciated, sir.” The scout rushed off again and Firion made for the castle exit.

His boots echoed down the halls and he steeled his determination. No matter her reasoning for coming to the city, he wasn’t going to leave the conversation today without his answers.

Leaving the castle felt like a breath of fresh air. Which it kind of was literally, as well. Despite the odor of animal blood in the streets, a wind blew in from the east and brought with it a hint of spring.

Commoners mingled and traversed about the streets in the same ratty clothes as he’d gotten used to seeing outside the comfort of the castle. Only royalty and their closest advisors could afford to wear anything decent these days.

Aside from that, the air was relatively pleasant. No angry murmurings or malcontent scuffles interrupted the morning atmosphere. The sun showed as a frosty sphere behind a haze of clouds and dew sparkled on the grass.

He found the place taught him by the scouts, an-out-of-the-way pub with a seedy reputation and alcohol that could down Guy with two shots.

Inside, he found the place completely abandoned save for the girl in the yellow dress. She sat at the bar, focused on pouring liquids between containers and writing things down on a piece of parchment.

“Selphie?”

She looked up at his approach and her look of concentration switched to excitement. “Frioniel!”

“Actually…” He took a seat beside her. “It’s Firion. We use different names when we’re in unknown territory.”

“Oh, like a codename!” Selphie finished a note on her parchment and turned to lean against the counter. “I’ve done that sometimes – it’s really weird.”

“You get used to it.” Firion looked at the bottles. “What are you doing with those?”

Selphie sighed and crossed one leg over the other. Firion might have once been embarrassed by all the leg she showed, but after traveling with Leila back in the day… well, he kind of got used to it. “Just wanting to find a good alcohol concentration before heading home. We started off on the wrong foot, didn’t we?”

“I suppose.” Firion narrowed his eyes. “You’re not from this world, are you?”

She didn’t show a fraction of the energy she had when they first met. Firion wondered what might have changed that. “Yeah, kind of just hopped in on my own and didn’t account for what I was getting into. Honestly, I’m ready for a break at this point. You won’t have to worry about seeing me too much after this, since I’ll be recuperating back home, and-… well, I’ll see how I feel after that.”

“Do you know where Lightning might have gone?”

“Lightning?”

“Claire, actually.”

“Oh.” Selphie shook her head. “No idea.”

“She disappeared with Jack, so I thought you might know.”

“If it’s Jack, I’ll bet it had to do with one of those portals lying around. No traveler I’ve spoken with has been able to make them work, but I think he took one of them in. Maybe he also took one out.”

“No one else can get them to work, though?”

“No, sorry. I wish I knew better.” She pulled up her wrist, which was wrapped in what looked like a leather band with a piece of glass on top. “I can’t find him anywhere on my locator, and he was saying he came here to find someone. I guess that someone was Lightning.”

“What kind of man was he?” Firion asked. “Jack?”

Selphie swallowed and took a deep breath. “I honestly don’t really know. But, if I were to guess, he’s a good one. Kind and well-meaning and all that… but also sad. _Very_ sad. He’s carrying a weight that threatens to break him, and I don’t think he’s the only one. It’s… kind of a common story, actually. Reminds me of my friends back home… Squall’s like that, minus the attitude.”

“Squall.” The name rang a bell and brought to mind the image of a dark-clad man with a sizeable sword. “A friend?”

“Yeah.” Selphie sighed and pocketed the notes she’d written. “When he wants to be.”

 “And you got here, how?”

“Back alley. So to speak.”

“Which means?”

“It’s… kind of hard to explain.” She looked up him. “Why?”

Aria made it sound like he belonged here, but… “I used to fight for other forces, not on this world. And I want answers.”

“Oh.” Selphie turned thoughtful. “That sounds familiar.”

“My queen, it appears, has also been taken.” Firion drew himself to his full height and slapped some coins on the table. “I don’t know what your price is, but I’ll pay it. I can’t accept the fate that this monster would subject my world to.”

Selphie swallowed and shoved the coins away. “I don’t know if I can-”

“You know.” Firion leaned in and Selphie looked up at him with wide eyes. “You may not know everything, but you’re far better informed than I am, and I will do whatever it takes to bring justice to my world and whoever else has been affected by Materia or Cosmos or Chaos or Mwynn or whatever other god has seen it fit to meddle in the affairs of us mortals.”

Selphie swallowed and managed a weak smile. “I may be able to help with that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An~d there's Lightning's side of the story! As I mentioned at the end of Snow's, these later ones will be about this size in terms of word count because I don't want to write 100,000 words for everyone because I still have a bunch of ground to cover and I don't have the resources available to get that deep into each world like I did with Spira. Thanks for reading and stay tuned for the next entry!


End file.
